The Exodus
by Autobot Chromia
Summary: When the Autobots were forced from their home world, only a few of them ever met up with their leader in the Milky Way galaxy on the third rock from the sun. But, many did not. What happened to those few that escaped, and returned home in the end? Tied into my Ratchet's Sick Days story but not needed to understand this. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1 Ironhide and Chromia

Ironhide and Chromia

* * *

This story is to show what happened to a few of the bots during the Exodus of Cybertron. If any of you readers have a bot you would like to see the escape of, please tell me!

* * *

How had she ever gotten so lucky? She knew a bunch of femmes and carriers who had been separated from their mates. Separated as in they were brutally torn apart and tossed into different parts of the globe and galaxy due to drafts and just plain, blinded, panicking.

She reached over again and gripped her mate's hand, just to make sure it was still there. He returned and squeezed her grip.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm not the one who you need to be worrying about, Hide." Chromia returned, turning her gaze from the spance of space in the windshield, and to a terrible gash leaking from her mate's shoulder.

He twisted and turned, trying to hide the wound. "It ain't too bad, can hardly feel it-"

"That's not necessarily a good thing."

"And the bleedin's done near stopped." Ironhide finished, poking at it to prove his point. It really wasn't bleeding as heavily as it had been.

* * *

_That one, terrible order rang through the speakers and their helms. _

_'-to the ships...Es-ape...On-hope. 'Till all...'re one.'_

_Chromia started as the very walls around her shook, threatening to fall as long, deep cracks crept their way towards the roof._

_"Move it!" Ironhide shouted in her audio, grabbing her servo and dragging her along._

_The outside was no better then in. Chromia gasped at the deathly black that crept along the once silvery gray ground. Any natural crystals in the way too turned black and some even crumbled into nothingness. _

_"Keep goin'!" Ironhide pushed her along. "Don' freeze up."_

_His accent was getting thicker, a sure sign that he was scared witless. He pushed and pulled her this way and that, trying to keep both of their minds off of the thousands of comrades and innocents they were leaving behind in the attempt to save their own skins._

_A high pitched wail pierced the air from somewhere, nearly making Chromia stop._

_"Chromes, we can'-"_

_"A sparkling, 'Hide." Chromia gasped out, trying to wrench herself free from his grip. A sparkling hadn't been born since Megatron had wiped out the Youth Centers and killed any sparkling he found in Neutral homes._

_Before he could speak to try and talk some sense into her, another high pitched wail filled the sky. It wasn't a sparkling crying, but Seeker bombs picking up speed._

_"Move!" Ironhide all but screamed as he shoved her hard._

_Too little, too late. He pushed her violently to the side, leaping himself to gain more momentum. He pushed her to the ground and pulled her in tight. He was not losing her! She was all he had left! _

_He rolled, trying to keep her protected. Three rolls and they were under what was one time a metal wall of some building, rusted and now offering them a poor bomb shelter._

_The missile hit the ground, soon followed by his brothers. An entire family reunion of missals and bombs hit the ground, exploding into oblivion and taking lives and debris with them. Ironhide pulled Chromia closer, putting his hand over her all ready closed optics to shield them from the blinding light and the sight of friends and strangers exploding in their mad scramble to an escape ship._

_"We gotta get to the pods." Ironhide shouted, even though his voice was barely heard in all the whistling and screams of the bombs. _

_"How?" Chromia asked, her lips were the only thing he could make out._

_He didn't answer, it would only be drowned out. Instead, he grabbed her servo, and tugged her up. _

_: When I say run, you grab onto me and you don't let go :_

_She nodded. _

_: If I-:_

_She shook her helm, not wanting to hear the rest, and blocked the comm. He overrode it easy, as she had left it that way. _

_: No matter what happens to me, you get to the pods :_

_: I won't- :_

_: Promise me :_

_Half in tears she nodded. Ironhide turned his attention away from his femme, and looked out. The bombs were slowing down, the Seekers running out of ammunition. There were no bodies strewn about, as one would think, but, instead, only bits of charred metal and possibly a limb or two that was somewhat distinguishable._

_Chromia more felt the word more through their bond then through her comm._

_: Run! :_

_Never had she ever rushed into something like this before. She had often fought alongside her mate, rushing headlong into battle, but this was not battle. This went above the definition of a massacre. This was nothing but death. There was really no escaping it, and the outlook looked bleak for both of them._

_They were running into death._

_The next thing she knew, she was being shoved into an escape pod made for three or four. She was surprised at the fact that it was still here, and the fact that there were still more. Had no one gotten here._

_"Start it up." Ironhide ordered, sealing the door closed._

_"'Hide, there's room for more. Shouldn't we-"_

_"There is no one to wait for!" Ironhide snapped. "Now start this fraggin' thing up before we can't!"_

_With tears stinging her optics, Chromia pressed the ignition button and onlined the controls. She wasn't going to argue anymore. There was no point. _

_No sooner had they left the atmosphere, did Chromia finally realize that there was no turning back. The tears she had held back slipped down as she looked at the slowly charring planet, literally being consumed by death and destruction. A planet literally dieing._

_Ironhide slid his servos around her, though they did little to comfort either. They didn't feel so strong anymore, but weak and unsure now. _

_"'Hide."_

_"Hmm?"_

_"You're bleeding."_

_Ironhide looked at the area that wasn't even motioned to, but he knew. It stung and made him light headed._

_"Sit down, Hide."_

_He did so, as there was no one to act strong for. Both of them were weak in spirit, and both of them were lost in soul._

* * *

Chromia vented as she looked for a first aid kit. The place was so small, you would think it was easy. But, no, it just had to be in the one place where absolutely _no one_ would look. Weren't they supposed to be in someplace obvious.

Chromia stopped before she tore up the floor to look for that stupid kit. She turned and look up, above the sealed door. There it was... why hadn't she looked there originally?

She took it down and opened it up. It contained a few rolls of bandages, some medical tape, some painkillers and fever reducers, even a little laser scapel. There were a few other items, an energon converter and a few emergency cubes, but not a lot of anything else.

They had energon, at least a groons worth. All pods had to have at least a groons worth, mandatory for emergencies such as this. Energon was the least of their worries right now.

"Here." Chromia said gently, kneeling down next to her red mate to attend to his wound.

"Chromes, just leave it." Ironhide replied. "It's fine. Stopped bleeding orns ago."

"It needs to be cleaned. You should have let me do it after we left the atmosphere." Chrmoia argued. "You're overheating and it's obviously infected."

"Who offlined and made ya a medic?" Ironhide grumbled, a bit too hot to be arguing right now. It was one of those time when everything just felt too hot and sticky, too cramped and you just wanted to run around and do something, but had no energy to do it with. The kind of time when you had no appetite, weren't exactly queasy, just not hungry.

"Hide, the thing is turning green. Even if it's not making _you _sick, it's making _me_ sick from having to look at it." Chromia stated, all ready popping open the one bottle of antiseptic they had and applying it to one of the five gauze pads.

Ironhide grumbled, but turned to give Chromia better access to the wound. "Fine."

"Thank you." Chromia huffed, slapping the pad onto the gash.

Ironhide hissed sharply the moment the cold liquid hit his wound. "Primus, femme! Are you _trying_ to kill me?"

Chromia vented. "It'll sting a bit."

"Now you tell me!"

"Suck it up."

Ironhide growled profanities under his breath as Chromia dabbed at it, the gauze pad coming away a mixture of blue and green and yellow.

* * *

She had to admit, it scared her. She slowly undressed his wound, flinching at the angry yellow, green, red, and blue pus oozing from it. She had first cleaned it four orns ago, him having been injured eight. It had only gotten worse.

Ironhide was now burning with fever, barely able to vent, both hot and cold all at once, and just downright miserable.

The pod they had jumped was too small for berths, but large enough for a tiny bit of walking space (read: five paces north, turn, five paces south)and four seats that could be lain at a 180 degree angle and pushed together. Not a very comfortable berth, but what else could they do beside sleep on the freezing floor?

Speaking of cold, Ironhide was shivering again. Chromia had found a stash of blankets beneath one of the seats, and had him covered when he was cold and took them off when his fever spiked.

"Hide." Chromia said lowly, as to not irritate him or cause him further pain. "Hide, you okay?"

"Fine." Ironhide gritted out between gritted denta.

"Hide, you haven't eaten anything in orns. Do you-"

"No."

"Please, Hide?" Chromia pleaded. "Just a little?"

The red, bulky mech shook his helm. "I don't wanna purge. 'Sides, it'll just dehydrate me more."

Chromia lay a hand on his forehelm. "You're still running hot."

"Too cold." Ironhide contradicted.

Without a second thought, Chromia curled up next to him. What else was there to do but snuggle with her mate, and try to help him feel better.

"Just get some 'charge, Hide." Chromia nearly purred, stroking his hot, damp helm.

Ironhide hummed in agreement, soon drifting into an exhausted recharge.

* * *

Chromia vented in relief, her blue hand draped across the broad forehelm of her red mate.

It was night, back on Cybertron anyways, and she had fallen asleep herself. She had been woken up by Ironhide thrashing about in a delirious dream, and was unable to wake him up. She hated that feeling, of feeling helpless and useless all at once. She had held his hand while he tossed and turned, his temperature going up much higher then it ever should. Just when she was read to jump on him and slap him silly, in a last attempt to wake him, he had suddenly gasped out and stilled.

Now, a medic might had known that that was a sure symptom of a broken fever, but Chromia was no medic. She had flipped out, doing everything but screaming his name and shooting the floor in an attempt to wake him again. Instead, she placed a hand on his forehelm to see if she could guess how much his processor had melted.

Only to find it cool. Damp from condensation, yes. But it was cool. Unable to control herself, she burst into thankful sobs, pressing his hand to her face.

She was unaware of Ironhide's rousing, and the odd yet gentle look sent her way. "Hey, I ain't dead, so what's with the tears?"

Chromia choked out a breathy laugh, still holding his hand to her cheek. "You're up. Thank Primus."

"I miss somethin'?" Ironhide asked, audible fatigue in his voice.

"No. No, just...go to sleep, 'kay?"

Ironhide nodded warily, and tugged Chromia back into their 'berth'. Only when she was beside him did he shutter his optics back for some much needed recharge.

* * *

Too long. Much too long.

Chromia vented as she lay across Ironhide's chassis, snug sitting in his lap. She traced along his scar with one of her digits, playing with it.

"Chromes-"

"Should we try again?" Chromia asked, her attention still on the scar on his shoulder.

"I don't see what good it'll do. We've tried every orn for nearly two groons."

Chromia nodded, trying to ignore how empty her tank was. Ironhide was just as hungry as she. They had managed to last this long only by cutting rations well below half, and they still only had a bit left.

"What harm is there in trying?" Chromia asked.

Ironhide shook his helm and vented. He moved, more then enough warning for Chromia to slide off of his lap and join him two steps ahead at the controls.

Ironhide sighed as he turned on the two-way radio, and started to tune through the channels. Some channels burst out static, others warbled before giving the same. After going through all the stations available to them, twice, he shook his helm and went to shut it off.

"Once more." Chromia pleaded.

"No. Not today." Ironhide sighed, sinking back in his chair.

Chromia didn't follow, and instead gripped the dial herself.

"Chromes, you're not-"

"Shh." Chromia started harshly. "Listen. I think-"

"Chromes, there's nothing there. Just static. Like yesterorn and the orn before that, and the one before that and the one before that!"

"Ironhide, shut your mouth and listen!" Chromia exclaimed, cranking the volume to max.

Despite the fact that the volume was at maximum output, Ironhide was surprised that he wasn't covering his audios from too much static noise. Instead, faint words were drifting though.

"Do you think-"

"What station is this?"

"Channel 4."

"Try another." Ironhide ordered.

Chromia nodded and snapped the dial. There was nothing but static, and she hurried to snap to another. Words were better made out, but still too low to even hear. Four more snaps, and they both leaned in to listen.

' To all Autobots, scattered throughout the galaxy. I am pleased to report that our home world, Cybertron, has been restored. While restored, it is far from inhabitable. I, Optimus Prime, am calling all Autobots back to Cybertron in hopes of rebuilding it once again to it's former glory. I repeat, Cybertron has been restored and all Autobots are needed in the total restoration of our home world. The war is over and the Decepticons vanquished. There need be no fear of returning. '

There is stopped, and started again in an endless loop of good laughed loudly and grabbed Chromia up. He spun her around twice, sweeping her well off her feet, before smashing her face in a heated kiss.

"We're goin' home!"

Chromia, as hysterical as her mate, squeezed him tight and clutched him as she again went airborne.

* * *

Author's Note-This is to be a fic about what I think happened to the few Autobots of Old (G1 in TFP) during the Exodus. They had to go somewhere, and I doubt that few ever really landed. Instead, I think most floated aimlessly about, lost in space, until they received the message Optimus transmitted on all radio waves.

I was kinda ticked in TFP when OP never gave an ending speech. He gave a little pep-talk to his own squad before the final battle, but no transmission! I was so hoping that maybe it would end with everyone (including the children, now that Cybertron was fixed up) on Cybertron, and the sun all golden yellow and reflecting off everything silvery metal, and great ships and tiny pods all coming back.

I saw Elita-1 running from whatever pod or ship she was on and running into Optimus' arms, and bots overjoyed to be back and their home world restored.

I also hope that I didn't botch up OP's speech! I am a terrible orator and speaker, even though I've always wanted to be a Pro-life speaker... :(


	2. Chapter 2 Sides, Sunstreaker, Perceptor

Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Perceptor

* * *

"How did we ever get stuck with _you_?"

"Had there been the slightest possibility, I would have arranged the coincidence of my interstellar companionship in a very different manner. I assure you." The haughty voice of a young mech drifted through the cabin.

An optic ridge was cocked at the former speaker."Speak normally, mech! I don't wanna figure out what you're trying to say every time you open your mouth."

"My designation is not 'mech', but Perceptor." the red mech replied in a slow, deliberate tone. He was just as displeased about the situation as the others were, no need to blame _him _about it.

"Yeah, yeah." Sideswipe grumbled, leaning his seat back to try and get more comfortable in this, small cursed pod. What he wouldn't have given to have his own merchant ship back, but as with Cybertron, it was long gone.

"Both of you, mute it." a golden mech growled from the cockpit controls. "You two have been bickering ever since we left atmosphere. It's starting to get underneath my plating."

"The use of the pronoun "w_e" _is a gross understatement." Perceptor stated coolly. He looked at both twins and leaned back in his chair, chin held high. "If it were not for _me_, neither of you would be in this pod and both of you would most likely still be on the planet or worse."

* * *

_'Frag. Frag. Frag. Frag!' ran through both their helms as they rushed to the waiting escape pods at the Iacon's docking area._

_They had gotten out of the building just before it disappeared into a flaming ball of molten metal en debris. They had rushed headlong into the open stretch between them and the escape pods, only to find themselves dodging Seeker missiles._

_:/Frag! Sides, this way!/: Sunstreaker said as he grabbed his twin and swung him in the opposite direction. :/We can cut through that field!/: He said and bolted ahead._

_Sideswipe took a moment to try and orientate himself. His optics shot wide as he realized the field, or rather, danger zone, Sunstreaker was heading to. :/Sunny, wait! Not that way!/: he frantically commed his brother, but the golden warrior only kept running._

_Sideswipe cursed and sprinted towards his brother, desperation clawing at his internals._

_With a final burst of speed he finally caught up to his twin. Without any kind of warning, Sideswipe's hand shot out and yanked his twin seconds before he could step on an Autobot-placed mine. _

_Sunstreaker stopped dead and stared at the area in front of his pedes. He turned to stare back at Sideswipe in alarm. He had led his brother straight into the Autobot minefield guarding the docking area. How'd they end up this far away from the ships, anyways? He thought as he looked around. The minefield was in the complete opposite direction of the pods. With a sinking tank he realized that, in his haste and the confusion of the missiles and fighting going on around them, he had gotten disoriented and had led them the wrong direction. He had failed his brother. He shuttered his optics and looked down, clamping down on his shame, self-hatred and fear. Sideswipe didn't need those feeling right now._

_:/ Sunny…/: Sideswipe nervously began._

_:/ Don't say it Sides, I know!/:_

_Sideswipe vented, trying to calm down. It wasn't that they were lost, just disorientated, that's all. Everything was flattened and turning the ominous shade of deathly black around them. The very ground in which they were standing had all ready started to leak the blackness, like dusty ink swirling its way around a corrupted fountain._

_Which way should they go? Sideswipe looked around and felt the first tendrils of fear and panic start to wrap them around his spark. Okay, maybe they were a little lost. He turned towards Sunstreaker. Sunny always knew what to do._

_Sunny stood stock still, his optics shuttered and venting hard. Ok. He was thinking. That was a good sign, right? Sideswipe thought as the whine of high-pitched engines caught his auditories. _

_"Primus fraggit!" Sunstreaker shouted as his head shot up to look at the Seeker formation that had been bombing them kliks before and now landed on the edge of the minefield. Sunstreaker's frame went rigid as his sharp optics focused on the Seekers. A feral growl escaped his vocalizer as a dark, murderous haze overtook his processor._

_"Sunny, no." Sideswipe grabbed his twin before the berserker could take complete control of him and all reason fled."Leave them! Please! We need to get out of here or else we are dead!" He shouted as he tried to drag his twin away while still keeping an optic out for potential mines. _

_Sunstreaker growled, clawing at his brother's red hands for release. Sideswipe vented, trying to clear his mind. Sunny had always been his rock. No matter how hateful his golden twin got, he could always calm himself down for Sides._

_Now Sideswipe felt utterly alone. He had to be his brother's rock, but right now he felt like a pebble. Heck, not even that. He felt like a piece of grit, a ground up pebble that was nothing but annoying and got stuck in your armor at the most annoying places._

_He looked around. The sky was graying now too, so there were no stars to guide them by. To top it all off, the planet's magnetic field was all screwed up, so his internal navigational systems were not going to work._

_What was he supposed to do? No stars, no GPS, not even a map, and the Seekers were already taking a grounded military formation. They were royally screwed to the tenth power. He looked around again. Ok. Maybe more than that._

_Sideswipe stopped his frantic search for direction when a restricted, unused channel in his comm. system lit up. He halted all movement as he analyzed the signal. Should he answer it? What if it was from the enemy, trying to pinpoint their location. But they already knew their location?_

_Yet, if it was them, then they would be no worse off than they were now; lost and in the middle of a fragging minefield._

_: What?!: he snapped as he opened the comm. line, just in case it was the enemy. He didn't want to seem too friendly to those fraggers. _

_No answer. The comm. line contained a tightly-packed data-burst. He quickly accessed it as he kept a firm grip on Sunstreaker. A map. An actual map! Directions leading them from the minefield, showing them where each landmine was, and to the pods. One of the pods was highlighted, and, conveniently, also the one closest to them. Sideswipe looked up. Primus must probably be keeping an optic on them. _

_"Sunny!" Sideswipe exclaimed, sending the map to his twin in a data-burst just in case they got separated. Or worse. Sideswipe shook his head. Don't think of worse. "We gotta get going." He shouted as the Seekers started their slow, cautious advance through the field._

_With a final growl towards the enemy, Sunstreaker gave a reluctant nod. They weaved their way in and out, and somehow managed to leave the minefield still intact. He had heard a couple of them go off however, and sincerely hoped that it had taken a number of Seekers with them._

_"Hey." Sunstreaker tugged on Sideswipe for attention after they had ran a little ways. "I know this route. I know a shortcut."_

_Sideswipe, always one for adventure, shook his helm. "Can't risk it! It might be cut-off, blown up, or just gone."_

_Sunstreaker started to argue, but stopped. He began to feel his brother through their bond, and he was suddenly aware of just how frightened his twin was. They were alone, trying to escape. The Lambo Twins never ran away, but here they were, trying to just get out of this warzone._

_He looked at his brother's blue optics, mirroring his own in shade perfectly. In Sideswipe's, though, was cold-sparked fear whereas hate and determination filled his own. Even though they were twins, Sideswipe had always looked up to him as an older brother. The strong one who protected and always got him out of any mess he conveniently managed to get himself into. _

_He gave his brother's hand a quick squeeze before releasing it, sending reassurance and determination through the bond. "Fine, we'll keep to the route. Stay close."_

_Sideswipe nodded, keeping so close that their frames could have merged into each other. They scrambled over flattened buildings and debris, ignoring the dead and graying frames of both comrades and enemies around them. Corpses didn't bother Sunstreaker, but he could feel the revolting disgust and sadness echo from his brother's bond._

_"I see the ship." Sunstreaker stated and tugged harder at his twin. They were going to make it, if it was the last thing he did._

_"More of a pod." Sideswipe added sullenly as he quickly glanced at the small pod that would be their rescuer._

_"Does it matter?" Sunstreaker asked, hurrying his steps as the sky darkened yet another shade. Or was it the planet?_

_Not only was the sky reaching for a murky black shade, it was painted with bursts of white, red, and yellow as a few others escaped in pods and ships._

_There were dishearteningly few. Hopefully more had gotten away in other Autobot areas._

_"Get in." Sunstreaker ordered, going for the door latch and yanking it._

_It didn't budge. Both sparks sank in reflective panic, and Sideswipe pushed forward to pound on it._

_"Hey! Hey, open up! Open up!" he shouted, pounding and gaining more decibels in every shout as panic set in._

_"Sides," Sunstreaker stared at the broken, panicking form of his twin. "Sides," he repeated. "We gotta find another pod. I don't-"_

_A loud, resounding clank snapped and echoed through the air as something from the inside pried the door open, interrupting Sunstreaker. It slid open, too dark within to see properly, but enough to make out a tall, lanky frame._

_"Come aboard. Quickly!" a cultured voice from within called, his pedesteps retreating._

_The twins wasted no time in obeying, and both got into adjacent seats as the other mech ignited and started the pod. Sideswipe spared him a quick glance. He was a similar shade, and had a large… something… on his shoulder. Sideswipe shut his optics as the pod launched into the sky, praying that Primus was still keeping an optic on them._

_It wasn't until they had left the atmosphere and the stranger turned around did they find out who their unlikely rescuer was._

_"Perceptor?" Both Twins echoed in unison._

* * *

"You are just lucky I waited for any stranglers and caught sight of you in that field." Perceptor finished with a huff.

"Whatever." Sideswipe grumbled, playing with his seat some more. He sat it back up, optics directed straight at the scientist. "Hey, you started this pod, any idea as to where we're heading?"

"Heading? We are not _heading _anywhere." Perceptor answered with indignity. "Where would we _head _to?"

"Isn't Optimus heading somewhere?" Sunstreaker asked, activating the pod's autopilot before taking a seat himself. There really was no need to activate it since they were not going in any particular direction, but it just felt wrong not to engage it.

"Yes." Perceptor agreed slowly, optics widening a nanosec.

"So...why not join up with him?" Sideswipe asked with a shrug. They had nowhere else to go, and where the Prime was, there was bound to be Decepticons. Which meant fighting, and he was just itching for a good fight to get rid of his jitters.

Perceptor looked down after trying to access a certain area in his HUD once more. "Because I have made a grave error." he vented slowly as he looked down.

"You?" Sideswipe sneered. This was the first time he had ever heard Perceptor admit to a fault. "What'd you do?"

"I lost the frequency of their broadcast." Perceptor vented out in the most distraught tone either twin had ever heard. "I had it in my memory banks when I was heading to the ships, but-"

"What did you do?" Sunstreaker growled, frame tense as he leaned forward. The intensity of his stare made Perceptor lean back as far as he could from the golden warrior. He cast a quick glance at Sideswipe, hoping that he would be able to keep his psychopathic brother in line, but Sideswipe too, had a feral look on his face.

"A missile exploded close to me. Too close. I was thrown into the air and I-I hit something and lost the frequency." Perceptor rushed, using simple words to not cause more strife in this already volatile and awkward situation. Prowl had always said that the twins had too much energy and that, if cooped up, they might do something irrational.

The next moment, the dull pain in his frame flared up as he was thrown flat on his back on the floor. Instinctively, he curled into a fetal position as he tried to protect himself from his attacker as fist after painful fist collided with his delicate frame.

Through the flurry of fist he saw, to his surprise, that it was not Sunstreaker who had attacked, but Sideswipe.

While Sideswipe had always been more docile than his brother, he had snapped inwardly under the stress of the situation. Both twins were renowned frontline warriors, some of the Autobots most excellent fighters. Battles were their way to vent some of the excess energy and base urges in them. Take that away and throw them in a pod with nothing to do and their last hope taken, they would be no better than caged beasts starved of any sustenance. This was what Prowl had warned them all about.

Perceptor was starting to lose consciousness as he felt another blow land on him. He didn't fight though. There was no point. He was by far weaker and his armor thinner than the frontliner's, and on top of that he was already injured. Besides, it was a fate he believed he rightly deserved for losing that vital piece of information that would have gotten them to safety.

Suddenly the weight on his chassis was dragged off him and he sagged in relief as the pain withdraw marginally.

"Sides!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, holding his brother tightly from behind. Sideswipe struggled and kicked to get out of that strong grip, his helplessness, frustration and panic bleeding through the bond. "Calm down! You want to kill him?" Sunstreaker asked as he continued holding onto his brother.

Sideswipe sagged in his brother's arms, his mind once again his own. Sunstreaker cautiously released him and turned him around, trying to stare into his brother's optics. Sideswipe's optics were wide, fear lining them as he looked at his brother.

"That's it!" Sideswipe blurted out in despair. "It's over. We're gonna die in this Primus-forsaken pod. I know we are! All because _Perceptor _lost the frequency! Now we have-"

The sound of metal hitting metal rang out. A pregnant silence filled the small cab of the pod as the two brothers stared at each other.

Sideswipe put a hand to his cheek, stunned. He'd never been slapped by his own brother before, not like that. Of course they'd brawled before, fight over frivolous things, play around, tease one another, practice, but they'd never_ slap _one another.

"Sides..." Sunstreaker said, as equally shocked as his brother. What had he just done? Sunstreaker glanced down at his open hand. He had just slapped his own brother. He gave his helm a disbelieving shake. How could he?

Sideswipe shook his own helm. "I-I deserved that." He said quietly, still keeping his optics on his brother after he saw his twin's distress and felt the shock through the bond.

Perceptor eyed them both cautiously and silently picking himself up. He did not want to attract any more attention from the twins. He was wounded enough without them inflicting any more.

He instinctively put a hand over his magnifying lens, flinched, and brought it down quickly before he was noticed, not wanting them to know of his vulnerablity.

Too late.

Sideswipe looked at Perceptor as the horror and shame of what he had just done slammed into him. _What did I do?_ He thought dismally. "I'm…uh…" he started then stopped. What was he supposed to say? _I freaked out? I lashed out at someone unable of defending himself? I struck a comrade?_ He looked at Perceptor again. There was no anger in the other mech's dimmed optics. Shame, maybe, and pain? Had he hurt Perceptor in his blind panic?

Sideswipe opened his mouth to apologize, but the apology refused to vocalize. "What's up with your shoulder?" Sideswipe ended up asking lamely as he pointed at Perceptor, who took two steps away from him to supposedly watch the monitors. "Did, did I do that?" Sideswipe asked softly, shame filling his voice. New dents covered the young bot's frame where Sideswipe's fists had connected, but he seemed more concerned with his shoulder and lens barrel.

Perceptor shook his head. "No you did not. I simply slipped a gear out of place when the missile tossed me." He explained hurriedly. "It is nothing to be overly concerned about, and will fix itself in due time." He said as he gave another step forward.

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Perceptor. They were frontline warriors and used to injuries. They knew the signs and what to look for. And now that he was actually looking, he could see the tell-tale signs of pain and discomfort lacing the young scientist's frame. Slag, how could they have missed that, or had it been aggravated by Sideswipe's little tantrum?

Sunstreaker walked over to Perceptor and gently grabbed hold of his shoulder. Perceptor froze, afraid to move as the golden twin held his shoulder. Sunstreaker peered into the opening of the scope. "You've got a cracked lens." he stated blandly.

Perceptor shifted uncomfortably under Sunstreaker's grip. Primus, he could not live for who knew how long with the _Lambo Twins_in an enclosed space. Who knew what they could do to him. Who knew what _Sunstreaker_ was capable of when he snapped if _Sideswipe_ did that? He doubted Sideswipe would be able to control him as deftly as Sunstreaker had been able to control him. And what would they do when they knew of his vulnerability?

"It is nothing but a little chip. Please, do not concern yourself with it." Perceptor pleaded.

"No." Sunstreaker stated, rerouting more light into his optics to see inside the dark area better. "The lens is completely shattered. It's gonna go soon." He stated as he released Perceptor.

Perceptor grimaced at that thought. It would be the same as if one of his optics was broken and he had just been told, 'It'll just fall out soon.' Dread and panic started to spread through his young spark. He took a deep vent, trying to calm himself as his frame gave an involuntary shiver. _It will be alright._

"How'd you see us all the way at the field without your lens?" Sideswipe asked as he walked up to them. Perceptor could use his magnifying lens like a telescope at times. If it had been broken _before _he had rescued them... Sideswipe couldn't think of an answer.

"My optics and lens are connected. I simply rerouted energy and magnification power from my lens to my optics and had the same effect as zooming in with this." Perceptor stated automatically while trying to hide his nervousness at the twins being so close.

"Wait..." Suntstreaker started, pausing to think again and rubbing at his chin and mouth. "Your optics and lens are connected?"

Perceptor gave Sunstreaker an appraising look. "In essence." He replied with a hesitant nod. Slag, they were figuring it out. "Please, it really is nothing to be concerned about!"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked at each other. They didn't need words as their thoughts filtered through the bond.

"How many digits am I holding up?" Sideswipe asked as he held two digits up.

"Don't patronize me." Perceptor grumbled, turning towards the monitors once again.

"How many am I holding up?" Sideswipe repeated, grabbing the other red by his good shoulder and turning him. Perceptor hissed in pain and Sideswipe quickly released him. However, he kept his two digits stationary, about half an astro-yard away from the other red mech's face as he waited for an answer.

Perceptor glared at the red Twin, and then turned to face the hand. He opened his mouth to speak confidently, only to stop, close it, and squint. He blinked a few times, his zooming abilities audibly whirring as he tried to focus. Two or three? He shoulders sagged as he finally hung his helm in defeat, shaking it. "I'm not sure if it's two or three." He whispered.

Sunstreaker rubbed a hand over his face as he looked away. He looked back at the dejected form of Perceptor and felt a pang of sympathy towards the young bot. He looked at Sideswipe to see the same look of concern in his optics. Well this was depressing news to top it all off. At least they had stopped brawling.

"Let's get one thing straight." Sunstreaker stated after the silence had stretched out too much for his liking.

"And what is that?" Perceptor asked as he gestured helplessly with his hand, still looking at his pedes.

Sunstreaker appraised him then looked at the cockpit. "You are so _not _driving." He finished as he looked back at Perceptor.

Perceptor glanced up at Sunstreaker, not sure whether the big mech was joking or not. However, when he saw the slight, awkward smile directed at him, his spark lifted a bit. "Agreed." he seconded with a small, lopsided smile.

* * *

Perceptor was surprised, to say the least. It had been two quartexes since their Exodus, but neither one of the Twins were acting in the way Perceptor had at first imagined. Neither was pacing like mad beasts, nor were they arguing and brawling nonstop and driving him insane. And they had not attacked him again. Sideswipe had even apologized to him, although it was a bit veiled and he had to deduce the apology from his ramblings. Since then, Sideswipe and he had gotten along fairly well and their conversations were rather, insightful, Perceptor had to admit, though it was nothing compared to the scientific conversations he could have with Skyfire back at his lab.

Perceptor, luckily, had had a collection of data-pads in his subspace when the order had come for them to leave Cybertron, and, after things had settled down, had taken them out to be used at will. As he was unable to read them himself as his vision was worsening by the day and the pain increasing, Sideswipe often read aloud. Both of the red mechs were surprised. Percy by the fact that Sideswipe could not only read, but was also a talented storyteller, and Sideswipe by the fact the Percy had actual novels that were _interesting and non-scientific_.

Sunstreaker, on the other hand, was not really talkative or interactive, but he did ensure to _both_ Sideswipe's and Perceptor's comfort, which, according to Perceptor, was rather odd. It was almost done in a caring manner, but Perceptor was not sure if the word 'caring' and 'Sunstreaker' could be used in the same sentence. Other than that odd bit of behavior, Sunstreaker usually navigated the pod manually for a few joor an orn to keep himself occupied and his mind off their dilemma.

Sunstreaker also showed rather good leadership skill, which most likely helped him keep a level head. He had found the first aid kit, and had it on top of the controls at ready for when _it _happened.

Perceptor suppressed a shudder. His shattered lens was still hanging in there, but just barely. It made his vision so terribly blurry, and when it finally did -_ugh_- fall out, he would be rendered blind until a replacement was found...

He would sit as still as possible, to keep that lens from shifting about. It hurt like the Pit when the glass moved about, and ached terribly even when he was not moving. He did not complain though, but the others knew that pain was his constant companion. Sideswipe had tried to give him some of the painkillers, but, despite the fact that he wanted them badly, he knew they needed to be saved for when he _really _would be in pain.

Perceptor bit down and dug his digits into his seat as the ship bounced and shuddered. If space was supposed to be an airless vacuum, how the frag did it have turbulence?

"You okay?" Sideswipe asked worriedly from beside him. He was more of a red smudge, though, that went from blurred to very blurred as his lens tried to adjust itself.

"Fine." Perceptor bit out through gritted denta as the pain took its toll. Two quartexes without painkillers was bound to make one a bit loopy and short-tempered. He was lying in his reclined seat, trying to keep the lens from moving about any more than it had to.

"You sure you don't want the pills?" Sideswipe asked again, glancing at the white bottle only half-filled, though it remained unopened. He hated to see anyone in pain.

"Please." Perceptor vented so slowly that Sideswipe had started to rise to get them, glad that Perceptor had finally come to his senses. "Don't...tempt me." he finished.

Sideswipe sat back down, glancing at the data-pad that lay unfinished. It was a good book, with a few scenes with femmes in it that had even Sunstreaker sitting down from time to time to listen. "Hey, you want me to read to you?"

Perceptor shook his helm briskly, wishing that he had answered orally as the lens vibrated a bit. Sunstreaker chuckled from the controls.

"'Course he doesn't, slag for brains. You read like Soundwave!" he teased playfully, bored out of his processor. Sideswipe really didn't read like that monotonous mech, he doubted anyone could, well, maybe Prowl, but it was fun to pull his pede from time to time.

"Do not!" Sideswipe argued, his red face redder with anger, despite the fact he knew Sunny was only teasing. He was a good reader! Perceptor had said so.

"Do too." Sunstreaker argued back.

"I do not!"

"Yes, Sides, you do." Sunstreaker vented with a cheeky grin and a mischievous flash in his optics. He kept his helm facing the windshield, though, to hide it.

"Well, at least I actually _read_. You couldn't read one of Bumblebee's old sparkling stories!" Sideswipe stated defiantly as he folded his arms over his chassis. Sunstreaker wasn't the only one good at pushing buttons.

"I could to! I read them to him once or twice." Sunstreaker stated, slowing down near the end as he had to think about how many times he had actually read to the youngling. It had to be at _least _four times. Maybe three.

"Yeah, how long did it take? He probably fell asleep from just how long it took to read the first page!" Sideswipe laughed, lying back in his seat as he drew his legs up.

"No! I finish-"

Sunstreaker never got to finish as a shattering noise, like a dropped wineglass, filled the pod. The horrid silence that followed was only broken by the trembling gasps of a mech in too much pain.

"Slag." Sunstreaker cursed as he leapt for the med-kit.

Perceptor had only tried to sit up, actually entertained by the argument, and moved just a bit too much a bit too fast. The lens had given away at one point, and the rest simply followed.

His hand dug into the chair, buckling the metal of his seat and bending his digits, at the excruciating pain that radiated from the lens case, behind his blacked out optics, and through his processor. He felt nauseous and dizzy all at once as his hands were suddenly yanked away from the chair, and he turned to look into nothing but blackness. His fame started trembling and his vents hitched as panic set in. Darkness. Nothing but complete, utter darkness and pain.

"Hey, we gotta deal with you blind, we don't wanna deal with you finger-less." Sideswipe soothed as he held onto Perceptor's hands, gently rubbing them between his own to try and calm the frantic mech down.

Sunstreaker set the med-kit next to Perceptor and ordered him to lie back carefully. He was silent as he opened the med-kit next to him, taking out a pain-chip and inserting it into Perceptor's wrist-port. Perceptor calmed down slightly as the chip over-rode his pain receptors, numbing most, but not all, of the pain.

Sunstreaker pulled out a tiny pen-light, and shone the white beam into Perceptor's shoulder barrel. "Eh." he shuddered a bit as he looked down the barrel. He was not cut out to be a medic, but thankfully he had been in Ratchet's medbay enough times to have a fair idea of what to do. He cleared his throat to alert Perceptor of where he was. "Perce, you got a piece still in there."

A jagged, triangular piece jutted out in a sharp point, painful only by the fact that it was dangling by a corner, wriggling back and forth like a loose tooth.

"Gotta-" Perceptor gasped out, squeezing Sideswipe's hand and some of the pain still filtered through. He still felt nauseous and dizzy as he clung to Sideswipe's hands. "Get...it...out!"

"Me?" Sunstreaker asked disbelievingly as he pointed at himself, despite the fact that Perceptor could not see it.

Perceptor nodded, a bit of static coming from his vocalizer as he tried to speak. His gray optics were glassy and watery as he blinked back stinging tears, his frame trembling in both pain and shock. Sunstreaker grumbled to himself, and went into the med-kit for the pair of tweezers.

"Never make anything easy, do ya Perce?" Sunstreaker asked teasingly, trying to break the tension. "You talk in a way to give us all a helmache trying to figure it out, and now this."

Perceptor looked apologetic, but was unable to speak from the pain. Sideswipe gave his brother an encouraging smile as he pressed Perceptor down into the chair with one arm to keep him from moving while holding both hands in his own for support. It was not the first time they had dealt with an injury in the field, but it had never been one this delicate in nature and he could feel his twin's anxiety over it.

"This might hurt." Sunstreaker stated, kneeling to make himself steadier.

Perceptor grimaced and nodded as if to correct him. This _would _hurt.

Taking a vent, Sunstreaker started. "Goin' in." Sideswipe pressed Perceptor down harder into the chair.

Perceptor gritted his denta and waited, bracing himself for the inevitable.

Sideswipe turned his helm away, not willing to look at Perceptor's face as he knew what was coming would hurt like the pit.

"Hang on." Sideswipe said gently, his voice muffled slightly from his turned helm. Perceptor would have been surprised at _both _twins gentility if he hadn't been praying for death to take him.

Sunstreaker carefully grabbed hold of the lens piece with the tweezers, and jerked hard. But instead of coming out, the tweezers slipped off the smooth surface, leaving the small shard in place as energon slowly started leaking from the edges.

Perceptor involuntarily cried out, struggling forward as the pain seared through his frame. Sideswipe released his grip on Perceptor and helped him lean over the chair just as he retched, the pain too much to bare.

"Slag." Sideswipe cursed, trying to keep Perceptor both upright and in his seat. "Sunny-"

"On it." the twin nodded, jumping up and looking for something to be used as an emesis bag. Those really weren't packed into pod and ships as mandatory-

Sunstreaker face-palmed. There had been emesis bags in the seats, but Sideswipe had been so dreadfully bored a few orns ago and played with them for reasons unknown to even himself. To say the least, they were not going to be able to be used for their primary function.

What about the empty cubes? They weren't really being used right now, and had been replaced in the supply of full ones. Snatching one up, he hurried back.

"Here." Sunstreaker stated, shoving it towards Sideswipe.

"Well, hold it!" Sideswipe ordered, holding Perceptor up as the poor mech continued to dry retch and tremble.

Grimacing, Sunstreaker did just that. Luckily, Perceptor was too low in the tanks to bring too much up, and was soon reduced to panting keens.

"Easy." Sunstreaker stated, helping the scientist back to a lying position. "That was my fault. The tweezers are too slippery."

Perceptor only nodded, his cherry red color paled as he continued to pant, keeping his optics shuttered. He reached for Sideswipe's hand, and gripped it tightly once it was given to him.

"Should I continue? I mean, it hurts you more when I try and take it out." Sunstreaker started. "We could just leave-"

"N-no." Perceptor gasped out. "Can get...i-infected. Gotta...get...it out."

"Well, can we pump you up on the painkillers, then?" Sideswipe offered, giving the untouched white bottle another glance.

"After." Perceptor wheezed. "I'll j-just...purge them out. Use another…chip."

Sideswipe shuddered. He ever hated the _word 'purge'_. He looked at Sunstreaker.

:/Can you implant another chip?/: he asked.

Sunstreaker shook his head. :/No, it's too dangerous. Chips suppress the systems, it could cause his spark to fade because of the shock he is in./:

Sidswipe shuttered his optics, trying to think. He opened them and looked back at Perceptor. "Hey...I-I might have some high grade in my subspace. What if we got you drunk?" he suggested." I mean, drunks do harmful things all the time and they don't feel it...at least, not 'til their sober again."

"You would know." Sunstreaker muttered. "I don't think that's a good idea. Don't you think there's a reason Percy never drank at parties?"

Sideswipe grumbled under his breath, glaring at his brother. "We're running out of options, then." he stated bluntly.

Perceptor shook his helm. "Just _do it_." he gritted.

Sunstreaker growled as he knelt again, but at no one in particular. "That's our only option?"

A slow nod.

"Then I'm not using these." Sunstreaker stated, placing the tweezers on the floor beside him. "It's close enough for me to reach in and pluck it out."

Perceptor shuddered and grimaced, but nodded. "Hurry." He begged as another keen escaped him. He was dizzier than he would like to admit, and he felt numb and sluggish.

"I'll do it quickly." Sunstreaker promised. He braced himself. "Ready?" He asked as Sideswipe once again pressed his arm over Perceptor's chassis.

Perceptor tensed, trying to prepare himself for the unpreperable. He hissed as he felt Sunstreaker gently touch it, his two digits gripping it without moving it. The next second he was unconsciously screaming as white pain lanced through him. Once more he lurching to the side, what little energon was left came gushing out of his mouth.

Sideswipe was quick with the cube, and held it up as Perceptor managed to purge a bit into it, mainly base oils, but still retching and gagging terribly. Perceptor slumped against Sideswipe, dragging in haggard, shaky gasps as his frame trembling uncontrollably, sleep enticing and beckoning him like a siren as he keened softly.

"It's ok." Sideswipe kept repeating as he rocked Perceptor back and forth.

Sunstreaker held the bit of glass in his energon-covered hand, still pressed firmly between two digit. A crack traveled up it as he pressed it harder, angry that _he _was the one that had done that. Killing the enemy was one thing, injuring them the same. Hurting a _comrade_, a _friend_, even when necessary, was not pleasant. It felt the same as when he struck his brother, except that he knew this had to be done.

He let it fall to the ground with the other glass pieces scattered about, and vented out.

"Sides...get the pills." the golden twin said lowly as he took hold of Perceptor and leaned him back against his chassis, gently rubbing his back as he always did when comforting Sideswipe.

"I got it." Sideswipe rose and grabbed the bottle, twisting its lid.

* * *

Perceptor sat in his seat, the one farthest away from everything and everyone as he stared into darkness. He felt like a complete burden. Deep in the recesses of his processor he knew that, even with his sight, he would have been unable to do anything. But that didn't make him feel any better and he ignored the tiny voice, sinking lower into his depression.

His other senses had immediately compensated for the loss of his sight. His hearing had gone up immensely, and his sense of smell had become far more acute than it ever had. He had learned that way that they all _desperately _needed a good scrub and was surprised that Sunstreaker had yet to say anything about his precious paint. He vented. Despite the strength in all his other senses, he wished only for his sight back. He was nothing without his sight.

Sunstreaker had called him lucky, having to not see Sideswipe's 'ugly' face. While he had smiled at the comment to relieve the spark of the twin, it had really done nothing to cheer him up. Time blurred into one, long orn. How long had it been? He didn't care. So why was he checking his calendar? Two groons was the answer. Two groons too long.

He turned his helm in the direction of the click of the two-way radio. One of the twins trying once again to catch something. Anything at all. He wanted to tell whichever one it was that there was no point, but found no voice in him to speak with. He slumped back into his chair. He wished he was dead. At least in death there was no pain.

Sideswipe spared a quick, worried glance at Perceptor before turning back to the radio, turning the dial slowly, straining his audios hard. The static wasn't so loud on that channel, but increased with the next. He vented in irritation, clicking to the next. Again, quieter static, but static none the less. He clicked once-

"Go back."

Sideswipe's helm snapped up. It took him a second to realize that Perceptor had actually _spoken_. The mech had fallen so silent these last few groons that Perceptor would go orns without uttering a single word.

"What?"

"Go back." Perceptor said, stumbling to get up. A flicker of hope ignited in his spark as he gritted his denta against the pain that radiated through his frame at the movement. _Could it possibly have been.._.?

He stumbled with his first step, disorientated and dizzy as his center of balance tried to align itself. He was so off balance it was pitiful. He put one hand forward to stop himself from stumbling, but was caught by another's arms. "Easy" Sunstreaker said as he led him over to the controls where Sideswipe had turned back to the channel Perceptor had indicated.

"You hear something we don't?" Sideswipe asked, tuning his audios in hard.

Perceptor held a digit to his lips, quieting the twin down. He strained his own audios, listening in to what he believed was a faint voice.

'A...' static. 'gal..'static.

"Get another channel!" Perceptor exclaimed quickly, excitement and hope bubbling over in his voice.

Sideswipe quickly grabbed at the dial and started to switch it. He still heard nothing, but if Percy was excited then there _must _have been something.

"Slow down." Perceptor scolded when he caught a faint word only to have it switched. He extended his hand and found Sideswipe's arm. He followed it down until he reached the dial and began to tune it back, slowly. Once more his audios caught a faint word. "Listen!" he ordered.

There was a long burst of static followed by a warble as the pod's broadcasting system finally found clearer signal.

'To all Autobots-'

Sideswipe whooped as the recording of Optimus Prime floated, laced with static, into the pod while Sunstreaker grinned, as loose as he would allow himself to get. Perceptor vented in relief as the rest of the looped message played, again and again, lips moving in murmured prayer as he sagged in relief. He would have sunk to his knees if Sunstreaker had not supported him.

Sunstreaker lifted Perceptor and walked towards one of the seats, gently depositing his load. "Strap yourselves in, I'm not planning on going slow." Sunstreaker ordered as he moved to the pod's controls.

Sideswipe went over to Perceptor to help strap him in to save time, only to find that the young scientist's nimble fingers had beaten him to it. He smiled at Perceptor. It was the first time since he had become blind that he showed some form of _living_ once more. He went back to his own chair and strapped himself in.

"You know..." Perceptor said after a moment. "The first thing I am going to see when we return, is Cybertron."

"Pretty fitting, if you ask me." Sunstreaker stated with a nod of his helm, carefully maneuvering the pod as he prepared it for hyper-speed.

Sideswipe nodded in agreement, completely oblivious to the fact that Perceptor couldn't _hear _him nod. He reached over to the empty chair and onlined the data-pad he found there.

"Hey, we got quite a few joors to travel before we get back, who wants to hear the rest of the story?" he asked with a shrug as he indicated the datapad he had not touched since Perceptor's incident.

"No! You read like a drone!" Sunstreaker exclaimed with a smirk.

"Do not!"

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do-"

Perceptor chuckled to himself as he settled back in his seat and shuttered his optics. It was going to be a long trip back, but there was hope. He would be able to see again soon, and he would forever be thankful to the two 'heartless' Lambo Twins that took care of him so diligently.

He smiled as he listened to the Twins arguing.

He couldn't wait to get back home.

* * *

Author's Note- Thank you to all you who reviewed, and to **Nikkie2010**, the most amazing Beta-reader in the world! Without you I would be lost and recieving 10+ PM's about misspellings and confusion... :P

Who thought that this was an odd combo? The Twins and Percy... just the thought cracked me up. :)

I WILL accept (some) suggestions of bits during their Exodus! The ones I all ready plan on doing are Moonracer, Prowl, Firestar, Jazz, and First Aid (tied into the Ratchet's Sick Days). I will NOT do Mirage, Seaspray or Beachcomber, not will Smokescreen (G1 not TFP) and Bluestreak make much of a show.

Also at ThemSoundWaves- Sorry, but Soundwave was shown in the TFP show! Pretty cool how he was shoved in the fourth dimension, huh? He'll probably offline of starvation...or maybe find a way to warp himself to a more tangible dimension...Oh! Can he send himself to one where he's a femme with ribbons and bows and the like? :D


	3. Chapter 3 Brawn, Silverbolt, Huffer

Brawn, Silverbolt, and Huffer

* * *

Firestar held her younger, frail sister close, ventilating in and out slowly, trying hard not to choke on the yellow fumes engulfing their small pod. She stared into nothing as she stroked her younger sibling's minty-green servo absently. This wasn't how she had imagined their sparks would extinguish. She had always imagined something much more valiant. She shuttered her optics as coolant welled-up. She never really liked to dwell on thoughts of death, even when she was still facing blazing infernos before the Great War, thoughts of death were far from her processor. But the times she did dwell on them, she had always thought that she would die in service to her fellow Cybertronians, either in fighting fires, or in fighting Cons. A valiant death.

But death has no favourites or respect of mechs. It comes to all eventually, sometimes mercifully fast, other times painfully slow, and could care less about dying wishes or methods.

A small tear slipped down Firestar's cheek as she accepted her fate, clinging closely to her sister.

Moonracer curled into her fiery red sister's lap, her own minty hues graying as she ventilated slower and slower, the yellow gas clogging her intakes and slowing her systems. She reached out and gripped the strong, orange hand in her smaller, daintier one, clinging tightly as if it were a lifeline. She didn't try to hide the fear in her spark from her sibling, the emotion growing weaker and weaker with her frame as she sagged against her sister. This wasn't supposed to be happening! It wasn't supposed to end this way.

Firestar tightened her arms around Moonracer, laying her helm on top of the other's. Empty words held no comfort, and so none were uttered. All they could do was cling to one another in their final moments as they waited for Death to claim their sparks.

* * *

_Their escape had been cursed from the very start. They had run, somehow managing to get to the pods just before the first Seeker bombs hit the ground and exploded. They had bolted into the first one available, not even taking in its ten-bot size until they had rushed to the cockpit. They had paused when they noted the large shuttle. Both sisters had turned at looked at each other, knowing instinctively what the other thought. It wasn't right for only two bots to take it up such a large pod. They had to wait for others, and so they left the door open. That is when it all went south._

_They had watched in horror as their world exploded around them and had shouted encouragement to others, both Autobots and Neutrals alike, as they dodged the firefight heading towards the pods. Just as the first bot came within leaping distance of the door, the siblings saw a Seeker lock onto their pod, preparing to fire._

_Thankfully, the Seeker was shot by Iacon's automatic air defence systems just as the missile was launched, causing it to go shy of its original, intended target. The missile hit just far enough from the pod to cause minimal damaged, but the close proximity of the explosion had caused an automatic fail-safe to activate, sealing the door and igniting the engines. _

_The sisters were temporarily thrown off their pedes, but quickly bolted up, tugging and pulling on the locked door to try and let those screaming and calling out on the other side in._

_But the door cared little for the desperate cries of those outside. The boosters ignited with a tremendous thunder. There was no stopping it._

_"Star-"_

_"There's nothing we can do." Starfire cut her sibling off, shaking her helm as she watched the green face streaked with blue coolant. She shoved her sister to the nearest seat and took one herself. "Buckle in!" she shouted over the noise._

_They rocketed off, the sound of the boosters drowning out the screams of panic that must have left whoever was by the pod, begging for sanctuary. For all they knew, it could have been one of their sisters, Arcee or Chromia, maybe even both._

_Their travels were dull, nothing worth commenting on until a groon and a half into their own personal Exodus._

_"Hey, Star, I'm getting a signal." Moonracer called from the external scanners, motioning for her sister to come quickly._

_"Autobot?" Firestar asked hopefully as she quickly ran to the scanners._

_Moonrace shook her helm, cold blooded fear in her optics as she looked into Firestar's. "Con." She whispered as her optics returned to the scanners._

* * *

_"Star, their connecting to our ship!" Moonracer cried out in panic, onlining one of her blasters and pointing it at the sealed door._

_"I know." Firestar said, not a drop of emotion in her voice as she stood idly and listened. Something didn't sound right with the connectors._

_"They're gonna get in and take us prisoner!" the younger femme continued, her blaster whining as more energy was rerouted to it._

_"No, they're not." Firestar replied, placing a hand over the barrel of her sister's rifle and lowering it to the ground. The ship wasn't connecting as it normally would if it was a boarding party, this sounded smaller, almost like tubes or pipes._

_"How do you know?" Moonracer pleaded, optics growing even larger and wider as a metallic clang was heard on the outside of the pod, followed by a strange, ominous whining sound, almost like air-dryer unit._

_Starfire looked about the cabin and extended a digit towards the vents, one second clicking and clanging loudly, the next hissing as a yellowed gas seeped in._

_"Star-" Moonracer chocked as she watched the yellow gas start filling the cabin._

_Starfire shook her helm, sitting down in a corner. She motioned for her younger sister to sit down in her lap, and cradled her close, stroking her helm softly as they waited, coughing and gasping as the gas reached their intakes._

_"Star…." Firestar started lowly, her intake hitching._

_"No words, Moon." Firestar pleaded, laying her helm back. "No words."_

* * *

_Firestar's vents wheezed pitifully as her vision started flickering. The end was very near. She looked down at her sister's frame, now almost completely gray, and planted a small kiss on top of her helm._

_"I… love you." She wheezed, barely above a whisper._

_"Love…you…too…" Moonracer vented and closed her optics, her small frame going completely gray. _

_Firestar shuttered her optics. Death was finally here._

* * *

_Somewhere, floating aimlessly in the galaxy, a blue femme bolted upright next to her mate, her spark screaming in pain as she clutched her chassis._

_"Huh…? What is it, Chromes?" Ironhide grumbled tiredly, as he slowly pushed himself up, looking worriedly at his mate. Chromia's vents were fast and harsh, and he could feel panic and pain seeping through their bond._

_"I-I don't know, Hide." Chromia stammered. The pain was subsiding, but it felt eerie. She vented slowly, trying to calm herself as she rubbed her chassis. Something didn't feel right at all. It felt like something deep within her had snapped, completely severed off and was now missing. She felt Ironhide's hand against her back, stroking her gently as he watched her. "Just got a...funny feeling in my spark, is all." She tried to smile at him._

_"You ain't sparked, are you?" Ironhide asked worriedly, enveloping her in his arms as he pulled her into his chassis. Just what were they supposed to do if their boredom snuggling gave them a little something they couldn't care for right now?_

_Chromia snorted, shaking her helm. Of course that's right where Hide's processor would go. "No, not like that." She said as she removed herself from his arms, trying to clamp down on her worries and fears before it could filter through the bond again. "Go back to sleep. It's probably nothing."_

_Nothing, in the sense that she felt like her spark had been cut and cauterized at the same time. She curled in close to her mate, seeking comfort for something she knew nothing about, yet left her feeling oddly empty._

* * *

_Sleeping peacefully in a drug-induced state, a dark blue femme lay under careful observation from their ever-vigilant, old medic. _

_Ratchet vented gruffly as he looked at the head-strong femme, glad that she was healing nicely, before turning back to his research on earth alloys._

_Suddenly, the machines blurred to life, screaming with warnings as Arcee's spark rate began picking up pace, spiking high then plummeting low, both sporadically and unnaturally. Then, just as soon as it had started, it stopped. Everything stopped for a split second. The monitor screeched its panic as it failed to detect a spark pulse. Ratchet leapt forward, prepared to resuscitate the femme, only to have the monitor regulate itself not even a nanosecond later. Ratchet stared at the monitor. Had the system glitched?_

_Arcee started forward, drugged out of her mind and disoriented. A hand went over her spark as she tried to process what had happened. It felt as if... a piece of her had died._

_"Wha'-" she groaned, looking about as she tried to figure out just where she was._

_"Easy." Ratchet said calmly as he pushed her down onto the berth, trying to calm her. "Lie back down – there you go." He waited till her ventilation has smoothed and her optics had cleared from their hazy look. "You were injured. Took a nasty shot to the back of your helm. You're lucky it just dented your thick helm. Now, go back to recharge."_

_Too groggy to argue, she whimpered and laid back down, quickly slipping into recharge._

_Ratchet watched her wearily as his mind pieced together what he had seen. His shoulders sagged as he vented and sat back down, heavily. He rested his helm in his hands, feeling a helmache encroaching. He rubbed a weary hand over his face and looked back at the recharging femme. He wasn't going to tell her, he couldn't._

_He had seen it too often during the war, and once again, he had been the sole witness to a severed spark relation._

* * *

"Hey, Huffer. Get your aft over here." the short, orange-green bot called from the escape pod's cockpit.

"What is it now, Brawn?" a whiney voice drifted through the cabin as the purple bot meandered over to where he was being beckoned. He had been having such a nice nap and recharge was hard to come by in such a small, uncomfortable ship. And it was even worse since he suffered from insomnia and cricks in his joints.

"I've got a ship on the scanners." Brawn stated, stoically ignoring the whining tone, as he pointed out a blip on the tiny screen.

"Probably 'Cons." Huffer moaned in a hopeless voice, his mouth turning down in a frown as he stared at the small blip.

Brawn stared harder at the readouts, then back at the scanner. "Actually, it's one of ours." Brawn stated, ignoring Huffer's whining tone. This was good news. Very good news. They had not seen one of their own pods for over a groon. He began to click a dial, trying to pick up the other ship's frequency.

"Ours?" A large, silver flyer jumped out of his seat and hurried towards the other two bots huddled around the scanner, his voice intermingled with both hope and dread. "Call them. It could be one of my brothers." He urged.

"Don't hold your breath, Silverbolt." Huffer muttered, crossing his arms over his chassis. "On second thought-"he mused, smirking darkly.

"Save it." Brawn snapped. Silverbolt was already beside himself with worry over his missing siblings. Being trapped on a shuttle with a pessimistic Huffer spewing the unlikelihood of their survival, was enough to ruffle all their plates and Brawn had had enough of Huffer's scathing remarks. _Of all the bots to be stuck in the same pod…_he thought as he sent out a short wave signal.

"This is Autobot Brawn to unknown Autobot vessel. Do you read me? Over." He waited for a few kliks before he repeated the message. "This is Autobot Brawn, do you read me? Over."

"I'm not picking up any life forms within." Silverbolt said softly, scanning the ship with another set of controls. He vented as realization eased in. "I think we've found another gassed ship."

Brawn sighed, and tried once more to contact the ship, but was again met with mocking silence. "We can't risk going in there if it is." he stated. The fumes were extremely toxic and were able to maintain a high level of toxicity for an extended period of time. They had nearly died themselves when they had inspected the first ship. They were lucky to have come out of it alive.

"The other Aerials are not in there." Silverbolt stated, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the drifting wreck, shoulders sagging in both relief and dismay. "I would feel them if they were." He felt guilty that he was glad his brothers weren't in there even if it meant that they were still missing. At least he knew they were still alive through the bond, however dim and that connection felt, but the other bots in the vessel weren't that lucky.

"We'll find them." Brawn promised as he laid a hand reassuringly on Silverbolt's arm. He withdrew his hand and turned back to the controls when Silverbolt continued to stare forlornly at the ship. Brawn vented and turned the thrusters on to steer the ship away from the pod. _Out of sight, but never out of mind. Brawl thought as he cast another look at Silverbolt. Thank primus he didn't have siblings of his own to worry about, though his spark ached briefly as he thought of the other mini-bots._

"Aw, it's too bad we can't even see who it was." Huffer huffed in seeming-disinterest. Brawn shot him an annoyed look, wondering not for the first time why he was an Autobot if he showed so little compassion for life. Wasn't that their motto anyway? All life is sacred? He was broken out of his thoughts when Silverbolt spoke.

"Why can't we?" Silverbolt asked as he turned his head to look at Brawn, either oblivious to Huffer's insensitivity or simply choosing to ignore it. "We could send a probe, at least that way we will be safe and we can note down in the ship's logs who they are, uhm, were." Silverbolt cleared his vocalizer, "Somebot might want to know when we get back."

_You mean you would have wanted to know if it were your brothers._ Brawn thought as he stared into Silverbolt's troubled optics. He frowned as he looked back at the drifting pod; they should log the encounter in any case, so adding names to the log would probably be best, and judging by the size of the pod, there were probably a few dead in there.

"Sounds good to me." Huffer said as he leaned back against the cockpit wall when Brawn didn't answer.

Silverbolt looked at Huffer and gave a small smile as he nodded before looking at Brawn again.

"Fine." Brawn grumbled as he felt Silverbolt's optics bore into him. He entered the command and launched the robotic probe.

Pods were mandatorily equipped with tiny probes, similar to the Telatraan-1-controlled ones installed on the _TheArk_ flagship, and were especially designed for spying and scanning in areas too dangerous or too vast for Autobots to do so. Brawn skilfully maneuverer the tiny, winged recorder around the death-ship, searching for entry.

It finally found the maintenance hatch and magnetically lodged itself over the entrance to the hatch. Brawn gave the order and the probe dispatched a tiny, robotic drone to open the hatch. It quickly did as ordered and entered the ship looking for vents to slide through. It finally found the outer vents and slid through, then popped out through the inner vents. It only took a klik for it to send back the image of two grayed frames, huddled together in a corner.

Silverbolt groaned in despair. "Femmes. Two of them." He vented sadly as he continued staring at the grayed out frames, pressing a fist to his mouth, trying to block visions of his own brothers huddling together in a corner, frames gray with the lack of vibrant life that they held in abundance.

"Lovers?" Brawn asked, observing how the two gray frames were intertwined, and the way they clung to each other even in death.

Silverbolt shook his helm solemnly, his optics dulled by the pitiful scene on the view screen. "No. Take it from me when I say that they're siblings." He turned his head away from the scene. He missed his brothers so terribly much, and, he knew that, if in these femmes' places, the only place he would have wanted to be was in the centre of his brothers' embraces if Death was to claim them.

Brawn nodded as he ordered the probe to collect the pod's logbook data before returning to the ship. They couldn't stay longer as they still had places to go, areas to search. They were on a self-imposed mission – a mission that they would not give up for anything, not even Cybertron – a newly restored Cybertron. They had received the _All Clear_ message sent by Optimus Prime to return to Cybertron a few orns prior, but couldn't find it in them to return until they had succeeded in their mission.

Huffer and Brawn had been in an entire squad of mini-bots before they had been ordered to abandon Cybertron. In the chaos that had ensued the order, they had gotten separated from their mini-brethren, and when they had reached the relative safety of space, they had begun their mission to search for their missing comrades, promising to do all they could to get as many of them back as possible. They had searched for orns on end when they finally found a single stasis pod drifting in space. They had quickly connected the small pod to their own vessel and de-activated the stasis locks.

Silverbolt had woken, confused and disorientated, totally unaware of all that had happened and calling frantically for his brothers. When he was coherent enough, Brawn had questioned him. The last thing he remembered was being with his brothers, still on Cybertron, when the order had been given to abandon the dying planet. After that, his memory banks were corrupted beyond repair. When Brawn had told him their story and their mission, he had gladly joined the two mini-bots in their search for their lost squad, while at the same time grabbing the opportunity to search for his missing brothers.

And so the search had continued, even after the message had been received that it was safe to return home and that the Autobots had won the war. Yet all their unfruitful search had yielded so far were three pods like this one, gassed by some rogue Decepticons. It was disgusting, cowardly and utterly sparkbreaking and stole their fragile hope as one orn after the other slipped by. Brawn could only hope that they would find at least somebot alive in their search, even if it was not a mini-bot.

An irritated moan from Huffer drew Brawn away from his dark thoughts as he turned to the purple and yellow mech. "What is it, Huffer?" Brawn groused, his annoyance with the self-suffering mech wearing thin.

"I've got another reading." Huffer groaned. "It's so far away, though, and will take so much time to reach and I..."

Brawn chuckled harshly, cutting Huffer's mumbling off. "Well then, you'd better strap yourself in as I put us in hyper-speed, 'cause we're going pod-hunting!" He said as a smile stretched over his face, glad to be leaving the pod of death behind them. Maybe this next one would be their lucky one.

Silverbolt complied without complaint, hoping that maybe this pod would hold _live _mechs, and hopefully either his brothers or some of the mini-bots. He closed his optics and drew slow vents, concentrating deeply on the bonds as if he could reach through it and touch his brothers.

Huffer, on the other hand, was complaining loudly of the uselessness of this mission and how they were wasting valuable time and resources searching the galaxy for their missing fellows while he roughly strapped himself in.

Brawn turned down his audio's to Huffer's annoying complaints and turned one last look upon the drifting pod. With a shake of his helm, a prayer in his spark and a flick of his wrist, the pod rocketed forward at the speed of light. Maybe this time they'd find someone actually _alive_.

* * *

Author's Note- Thank you to all reviewers and especially my heaven sent beta **Nikkie2010**, without here this story would be total crap!


	4. Chapter 4 Prowl and Jazz

_**Warnings: spark-merge, mpreg.**_

Prowl and Jazz

* * *

"Blue." Prowl pleaded brokenly as he no longer fought the tears that slipped down his cheek.

"M' sorry, Prowl." the young Praxian murmured, his intakes heaving and forced.

"Please." Prowl begged, cradling his younger sibling close. "_Please_."

* * *

_Prowl's face hardened into one of determination as he glowered at the data-pad before him. There must be something he missed, something crucial to get them out of this mess. The order for evacuation was still ringing in his audios, repeating in his helm from five breems ago. He grumbled to himself as the door flew open, optics shooting up to glare at the introduer._

_"Jazz, you must knock before-"_

_"What the frag are ya doin' 'ere still?" Jazz asked in a shocked, panicked tone. "Ya gotta get out."_

_"No." Prowl replied calmly, taking up his stylus once again to work out the equation. Too low. The chance of survival was still too low. What was he missing?_

_He was immensely surprised as his chair was yanked back and he was grabbed harshly and pulled from his seat fast enough to give him whiplash. "We ain't arguin' on this, Prowler. Yer bros are already on their way to the ships. We gotta go now."_

_"You go." Prowl stated firmly, trying vainly to pry Jazz's digits from his wrist. That mech had some grip. "I am staying here."_

_"Ta do wha'? Paperwork?" Jazz growled. "For wha'? For who?"_

_"For whom." Prowl corrected with a slight scoff "The Prime has left, Jazz. He has left Cybertron, so I, as Second-in-Command must stay in his absence."_

_"The order was for all to get to the ships." Jazz said firmly, dragging the Praxian behind him. Prowl was coming even if he had to knock the stubborn aft out and carry him there himself. "There ain't nothin' left 'ere for anybot."_

_"The Decepticons-"_

_"Are leavin' too." Jazz finished. He loosened his grip on Prowl's wrist as the mech followed more willingly, but didn't let go._

_The ground shivered and the walls shuddered as the outside was attacked with missiles and bombs. Jazz shoved Prowl down just as the foundation gave away, and the walls came crumbling down._

_"Jazz-" Prowl's voice was drowned out as the wall completely gave way. It was humbling to have the Polyhexian's frame shielding his own smaller one, but in the heat of the moment he found that he couldn't really care much about the fact._

_"Move." Jazz ordered as he helped Prowl up. Dust and debris fell from his back in clumps and clouds and scattered about on the floor._

_"Are you injured?" Prowl asked, quickly stepping back to check the other's back._

_"Nope." Jazz said, getting an internal reading giving him the same answer. He was lucky it was only cosmetic damage. "Don' matter anyhow, we gotta get movin' 'fore we both get hurt."_

_The hurried through the rubble, going through the now non-existent wall to the non-existent outdoors. There was nothing, plain and simple. The ground was a charred black, possibly reflecting the sky. Jazz pointed at a near distance and held his digit to his lips. A Seeker squadron was landing and taking grounded military formation. Prowl nodded in understanding._

_Jazz pulled Prowl along, trying his hardest to keep from tripping over the fallen building and debris scattered about._

_"Can you tuck your wings down?" Jazz asked once they were a few hundred astro-yards from the destroyed HQ and nearly hidden in the rubble._

_"A bit." Prowl admitted. Doorwings weren't something one could really just hide away. There was no place for them other than as functioning doors or wings on their back. "Why do you ask?"_

_"'Cuz it's a tight squeeze down 'ere an' ya might not fit." Jazz answered, falling to his knees and lifting and tossing away pieces of what use to be roofs and walls._

_He stood up again, and pounded his foot on the spot he had just cleared. The metallic ground buckled and loosened enough for him to tear it up after a few times. He glanced about, checking for the enemy. Most of them, like the Autobots, had already fled the planet. The Seeker formation would most likely leave soon, after making sure that the last of the Autobots and Neutrals had been wiped out._

_"What is this?" Prowl asked as he knelt down next to Jazz, who was typing a sequence of glyphs into a keypad._

_"Tunnels." Jazz answered simply as a circular cover slid aside and revealed a long, dark hole. "Spec. Ops."_

_"Explains why I was unaware of them." Prowl stated._

_"Not even the Prime knew 'bout these." Jazz answered. With one fluid motion, he had swung his pedes in, and began to descend a rickety ladder. "Ya comin'?"_

_Prowl gave a single nod as he took Jazz's example and started to descend. The bit of light they had had from the outside disappeared as the cover slid back again. It only took a klik to reroute energy to their optics to light their way down._

_It felt as if they had been climbing for joors. Prowl had given up counting steps and time as both seemed infinite. Neither spoke, afraid that what was left of the above world might hear them. The only sound was their heavy ventilations, the clank of metal on metal as they climbed down, and a metallic grating sound as Prowl's pressed down doorwings still managed to scrape the wall._

_Jazz vented in relief as his pedes finally hit solid ground. He looked up and saw a blue band of light from Prowl's optics as the Praxian continued to scramble after him, and yellow and white sparks from the abused doorwings._

_"It's easier walkin' down 'ere." he encouraged, actually able to stand up straight in the small tunnel._

_Prowl looked relieved as his own pedes finally touched solid ground. He was still unable to lift up his doorwings, which looked the worse for wear, but they were no longer scraping the walls._

_"This parts easy." Jazz spoke, leading the way through the maze of tunnels. "Jus' have'ta know where yer goin'."_

_Prowl didn't reply, observing the intricate work it took to make the tunnels. There were no seams from welding multiple tubes together, but there were bolts from time to time as he ran his hand across the smooth wall._

_"I assume that we will have to leave the same way we entered?" Prowl asked, motioning back to the ladder that was no longer in sight._

_"Actually..." Jazz started, turning into a dead end tube. "These tunnels were built jus' for this purpose."_

_"Escape?" Prowl thought aloud "Then why did nobot except those in Special Ops. know about them?"_

_Jazz slid back another hidden panel, this time it in the wall and not requiring abuse to open. He shrugged as he added a three glyph combination. "Ah don' know. Ah think it was supposed ta be handed out over time, but we never had time ta do it."_

_Both squinted harshly as the block in their path slid away, opening up right to the ship yards. Jazz slumped a bit as he noticed all the pods left, waiting for ignition to take off._

_"Did anybot make it?" he asked as they quickly went aboard a four-bot pod. It would come in handy if they came across others in space, hopefully Prowl's brothers._

_Prowl shook his helm, noticing the few bare spaces that had once contained a pod or two. He didn't even bother to ratio the missing to those still present, it wasn't encouraging by any means._

_It wasn't long before their own pod left the atmosphere, and Prowl began a short-range sweep for nearby ships. He was immediately rewarded with two._

_"That's an Autobots pod." Prowl pointed out, the small ship visible just ahead as a tiny, irregular shaped dot._

_"That one ain't." Jazz said firmly at the ship coming towards the first. "Don' worry, Ah don' think it's yer bros. They left long before we did."_

_Prowl didn't listen as he quickly sent out a comm. to the Autobot ship ahead. "This is Autobot SIC Prowl contacting Autobot pod in line of sight. Who is aboard? Over."_

_Jazz shuttered his optics as a semi-panicked tone assaulted his audios. "P-Prowl? That you?"_

_"Smokescreen." Prowl swallowed. "There is a Deceptic-"_

_"I know, Prowl." Smokescreen interrupted, static lacing the message. If it was from the bot or the faulty connection, Prowl didn't care._

_"Hold on. Jazz and I will come and intersep-"_

_"Prowl, there's no time." Smokescreen stopped him again. "You won't reach us in time."_

_A voice which seemed to be behind Smokescreen and slightly muffled was just barely heard. "Tell Prowl that we love him."_

_Jazz placed a hand on the Praxian's shoulders as Smokescreen relayed the message. "Blue wants ya to know that we love ya."_

_"Smokescreen, we can-" Prowl was interrupted once again before he could try and argue._

_"Jazz, take care of our bro." Smokescreen ordered. "I'll know if you didn't."_

_"Ah will." Jazz promised, squeezing the shoulder he held onto._

_Smokescreen snorted. "Good. Cuz' if you don't, I'll haunt you."_

_A small choking sound came from Prowl, but nothing more. Smokescreen cut off the comm. connection, and blocked both further connection attempts and his side of the sibling bond. Prowl intook sharply as Bluestreak too blocked his portion._

_"Look away." Jazz ordered to the frozen Praxian._

_Prowl never moved, except for a twitch in his doorwing. He was totally fixated on the incoming Decepticon ship, and the one that contained the last of his, that he wasn't going to be able to move the Praxian, Jazz did the next best thing._

_Prowl didn't argue as a white hand was slid over his optics, cutting off his sight of the two ships. It did nothing, though, for the sound of the explosion and the feel of the aftershock as it shook their pod._

_He felt a slight sting in his optics as Jazz pulled him away from the window, only removing his hand once Prowl was seated and turned away from the sight. The blast sent from the Decepticons to wipe out the Autobot ship had taken out both ships._

_"Blues still out there." Prowl said lowly. "Smokescreen's gone."_

_Jazz nodded. "We'll get Blue, Ah promise."_

* * *

_Jazz was always true to his promises. It hadn't been easy, but the Polyhexian had somehow managed to get Bluestreak aboard. The poor thing had been floating in space amongst the rubble of the once been ship, badly damaged beyond what medical equipment they had in the first aid kit._

_Jazz had stepped aside and let Prowl take over once Bluestreak had been placed, half conscious, in a reclined chair. The strongest pain chip they had had been slid into his wrist, although what he really needed was an induced stasis._

_"Blue?" Prowl asked gently, noticing the way the younger bots hands curled about something curved. "What is that?"_

_"Smokescreen." the gray mech choked out, moving his hand to show the red chevron he clutched. Prowl's intakes hitched, but he said nothing. Bluestreak clutched the bit of his brother all the harder as unconsciousness took him._

* * *

_Prowl fell sullenly silent as the orns turned to a quartex, and then some. He spoke very little, and usually only to Bluestreak. He could feel his brother fading by the klik, helpless to do anything. There was nothing to do, so he w_as_useless._

_He had been keeping watch over some monitors, watching their fuel dip a bit lower every few joors. His hand went over his spark and his optics widened as he quickly left one of the captain chairs._

_"Blue." Prowl vented, gathering up his brother's limp frame._

_"M' sorry, Prowl." the youngling gasped, his torn up frame choking as life started to leave him._

_"Please." the elder brother pleaded, tightening his grip on is other, as if he could hold onto his own sibling's life. "Please."_

_The naturally gray frame darkened dramatically, and the hazy blue optics that mirrored Prowl's watery ones darkened black and shuttered. The frame went limp, lax as pain and spirit left it. Prowl choked as a suppressed sob escaped his vocalizer. He was numbly aware of a hand pressed on his shoulder, and another hand placed on Bluestreak's frame._

_"Ah'm sorry." Jazz vented, unsure if Prowl could even hear him. "It's gonna be alrigh', 'kay?"_

_Prowl's intakes hitched again, and he shuttered his own optics as yet another piece of him died._

* * *

Prowl didn't care to watch as Jazz dumped Bluestreak's frame into the vast, emptiness of space. He clutched the only piece of his younger brother he had left, his dark blue chevron, like a lifeline. He hadn't been aware of his breakdown until he had woken up, exhausted and cried out and covered in silver particles of an offlined frame. He hadn't the heart to brush away the gray dust, feeling as if that and the chevron was the only thing keeping his brother close.

Jazz vented as he watched the near-youngling's frame float away, bound tightly in a warming blanket they had managed to spare. It just wasn't right, dumping him like that. He deserved a much better burial, one with more honor and respect and not involving a tarp.

He sighed heavily as he took the pilot's chair to get them away from it. Prowl never even acknowledged the Polyhexian as the ship powered up, and they left his brother to the endless, vacuumed abyss.

* * *

"Prowler, please." Jazz pleaded, stroking his mate's servo.

The Praxian shook his helm once again, stubborn as ever. Jazz had been pleading, begging him to reopen his side of the bond. For groons, vorns even, back on Cybertron they had had to block their bond for fear that the 'weakness' would be found by the enemy and exploited. Now, alone in the pod with nothing to do and no one to speak of, there was no point to leave it closed and blocked.

"Why?" Jazz asked, cupping the white cheek. "Can ya jus' tell meh tha'?"

"I don't-" Prowl's intakes hitched, still raw from his brothers' offlining. "I don't want to h-hurt you."

"More than ya are now by blockin' meh out?" Jazz asked softly. He vented, and turned Prowl's face towards his once again as the Praxian looked away. "Please, even jus' a little. Don' have'ta be all at once, jus' a bit."

Prowl shuttered his optics, laying his helm on his mate's shoulder. He bit his bottom lip in hesitation. All those terrible thoughts that had been plaguing his mind, all those thoughts that would hurt Jazz more than they ever could Prowl. What would hurt the Polyhexian more, though? Hiding from him, or sharing it?

A bit of relief swarmed Jazz's spark as he felt Prowl,_felt _him for real, the first time in vorns. He felt the other open his bond a bit more, slowly, then suddenly all at once. He said nothing, only shuttered his optics as Prowl's suppressed thoughts and feelings flooded into him.

"Prowl." Jazz choked out. "You-"

He shook his helm, unable to finish. Suicidal thoughts, but not his own, filled his mind and spark. He felt Prowl's current feeling, deep shame and remorse.

"It ain't yer fault." Jazz managed, besides himself that Prowl could have died by self-inflicted means, and Jazz would have never known about it. Not until it was too late.

"Jazz, I-I'm so-" Prowl started, his words hushed and low in sorrow.

"Open yer chassis." Jazz ordered, gently but still ordering.

"What?" Prowl asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Ya need ta get sorted out, Prowler." Jazz soothed. "Ah can help ya do tha'."

"Jazz, you don't have to." Prowl stated. While Jazz knew how, he only knew so much. How selfish of him to want to commit something so dastardly! It wouldn't just take him away, but Jazz too.

"But Ah do." Jazz stated as he let his digits trail up Prowl's cheek. Jazz opened his own chassis to encourage the Praxian. "Ya don' have ta do anythin', Prowler. Jus' lemme in an' Ah'll help ya."

Unable to argue, there was no point and would only hurt Jazz more than he already had, Prowl obeyed. With the familiar motions, Prowl opened and slid back his own chassis. His spark swirled about in mirror of Jazz's, only his a few shade's darker due to the trauma and severs it had gone through.

Jazz somehow managed to get Prowl to lay across him, right on top. Prowl's frame wasn't all that heavy, due to the stubborn bot's chagrin against eating, and was a few yards smaller than he was. Jazz reached out, silvery tendrils reaching out from his spark to Prowl's own.

He gripped his mate's hand as he entered, and his spark and mind were flooded with the depth and intimacy of Prowl's dark thoughts. He had had things planned, firewalls ready for instillation to make it unknown and painless for Jazz.

_'Painless?' _Prowl felt rather then heard Jazz asked._'It wouldn't have hurt meh ta find ya offlined?'_

He received no answer except a swell of regret, remorse, and self-loathing. Jazz clasped Prowl's hand in his own, the similarly colored digits and palms seeming to merge like their sparks. Prowl shuttered his optics, wishing that he could again cut off his mate from his thoughts and feelings, and the comfort and support coming in from Jazz's end.

_'Jus' lemme help ya.' _Jazz seemed to breathe into him._'Ah'll get ya all sorted out.'_

Prowl could already feel himself being straightened out. Jazz helped ease the pain, he was a literal buffer between Prowl and his own processor. Prowl lost track of the time, the kliks, breems, and possibly even joors all blending together into one single moment. His optic shutters felt like they were made of lead, and he had long since lay still on top of Jazz.

_'Jazz.' _Prowl murmured apologetically into Jazz's being._'I-I may fall asleep.'_

_'It's okay.' _Jazz comforted, petting the SIC's doorwings out of habit._'Ah'll have ya all sorted out when ya wake up.'_

He watched as the depressed Praxian shuttered his dim optics, and felt the very moment he fell asleep. A peace washed over him, untainted by troubled thoughts and dark emotions. He continued to act as a buffer for his mate, not exactly taking on all of the bad thoughts Prowl's processor created, but managed to strain them in a way to make them less forceful and harmful.

A click, seeming to resound within them, became a signal to Jazz that it was time to stop. He slowly withdrew his spark, Prowl's own backing up as the one became two once again. Prowl's chassis automatically closed, even in REM, as Jazz forced his closed. He didn't have the spark to move Prowl, despite the fact that the Praxian was laying on his leg a bit in an awkward way. He hadn't had feeling in it for the past joor, and the tingling was getting annoying.

Too tired to care, Jazz shuttered his optics and joined Prowl in recharge.

* * *

Jazz would have been lying if he had said that he wasn't very concerned when Prowl woke up, and nearly purged. Prowl scoffed at Jazz's hovering, only increasing his nausea in his agitation.

"Jazz, I'm fine." Prowl vented, causing the staring mech to turn quickly. Like that was going to do anything. "It's most likely a small bug in my systems. I wasn't even ill. If anything, its space-sickness."

"Ya never had 'space-sickness' before." Jazz snorted, using air quotations.

"I haven't been outside the atmosphere all that often." Prowl retorted, rolling onto his side to face the Polyhexian. The only reason he was still lying down, besides the fact that his tank was still queasy and there was nothing else to do, was because Jazz wouldn't let him up. "Not as often as you have, anyways."

Jazz hummed a bit, not so sure. He cast a wary glance at their wavering fuel, or the ship's at least. Their own personal fuel was fine, but the fuel in the ship's tank was slowly dipping towards empty as they went on.

Prowl raised the seat up. There really was no reason to be lying down, he felt fine now. If anything, it must have been from recharging during a merge. He stopped his logic processor from coming up with another possibility by shaking his helm. At times he wished that he had an on/off switch to keep it off for good. It was immensely annoying going about, noticing everything, and finding out multiple reasons for it.

Take their gas, for example. The petrol needle was dropping, bit by bit every orn. Now, they could just have a ship that burned gas quickly. A more logical answer was a slow leak into the outer vacuum, explaining why he kept getting whiffs of the fumes every so often.

There was another odd thought. Just _how _was he smelling the gas if it was outside? He knew there wasn't a leak inside or else Jazz would have noticed, but how was he noticing it when it was outside in an endless space, through thick walls of metal?

No matter, what was more important...what was more important? There was absolutely _nothing _to do in this-

"Jazz, what are you doing?" Prowl asked, cocking an optic ridge warily as Jazz unsubspaced a small device with a handle and a pin-point hook.

Jazz shrugged. "In Spec. Ops., ya never go anywhere without yer tools. Ah thought that Ah could tinker with the chairs or somethin', make a berth for us with them.

"Would you be needing a second pair of hands?" Prowl asked hopefully.

Jazz chuckled, rolling his optics a bit beneath his visor. "Ya sure yer feelin' okay?"

"Fine, Jazz." Prowl confirmed.

"'Kay, then." Jazz smirked, motioning Prowl over to help keep the chair still. Maybe he could have him hold the flashlight in this well-lit room, too.

* * *

"Prowl." Jazz nearly growled, controlling himself only because of the situation.

"I'm fine." Prowl murmured, venting deeply through his mouth to calm his tanks. He couldn't be sick again, not when they were on _rations_.

"Prowl, yer obviously not." the Polyhexian scoffed. "If ya were fine, ya wouldn't have been sick on an' off for the past two quartexes."

Prowl absent-mindedly rubbed at his chassis a bit, more of just a fiddle, but he was uncomfortable there. It felt as if he were swelling up like a balloon, puffing up in a tight space. Jazz's optics narrowed in on the action, becoming more and more noticeable as time went on.

"Yer spark still botherin' ya?" he asked, worry clear in his voice as he placed a servo on his mate's shoulder from the behind. It as much easier to get closer now that they had welded two chairs together to form a rather nice berth.

"It doesn't hurt." Prowl defended himself, lamely at that.

"Ah never said it did." Jazz stated. "Can Ah...look?"

Prowl's optics widened for a klik. "What?"

"Hey, it ain't like Ah haven't seen it before." Jazz smirked. "Ah ain't a medic, but Ah'm the next best thing."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge at his mate. "The next best thing?" he parroted.

"Maybe not..." Jazz mused, scratching his chin. "But Ah'm the closest thing ya got."

Prowl vented and lay back against the berth. Jazz took that as a 'yes', and sat up fully. When Prowl never made his move, he tapped on him firmly.

"Prowler." he warned.

He was answered by a metallic scrape and a click as Prowl's chassis sprang up and tucked back, as fast as a released spring under great pressure.

Prowl shuttered his optics, not wanting to look at Jazz's face. _How humiliating._He waited for Jazz to speak, something most likely along the lines of 'Ah have no idea' or something like that.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked slowly, shock clear on his faceplates, despite the fact Prowl wasn't looking.

The Praxian hummed in reply. "What?"

"What's yer opinion on startin' a family?" Jazz questioned.

"Aren't we already a family unit?" Prowl asked, opening his optics to see Jazz's not quite horrified faceplates, but not at all calm either. "What's the matter?"

"Well...ya've got two sparks in ya." Jazz put bluntly. "Ah'm pretty sure tha' tha' means yer sparked."

"I-I can't be." Prowl stammered, starting to sit up. Jazz pressed him back down, optics fixated on his mate's brightened spark, and the second soul floating aimlessly around it.

"Well, it is." Jazz vented, motioning that Prowl could close his chassis if he wanted. They snapped shut with a resounding 'clang'.

"What do we do?" Prowl asked lowly, his near whisper both showing and hiding his shock and fear. So much could go wrong in a pregnancy, and without a medic at that. Who was going to deliver it? _Jazz, obviously_. That annoyingly right voice in the back of his helm stated.

Jazz enveloped Prowl in a warm embrace. "We thank Primus and get ready."

* * *

"So...ya can feel it?" Jazz asked, pressing a hand to his mate's warm chassis.

Prowl nodded slowly, fatigue visible in his face. He shifted a bit as he felt another twinge, another tendril connecting his soul fully to the soul of his sparkling, broke. All last night, if that's what the later hours could still be called in the eternal darkness of outer space, the slow snapping of his sparkling separating had kept him awake. Jazz, despite his promise to stay awake, had fallen asleep in the end. He couldn't blame him, though, it was late and they both were tired.

He grunted a bit as a large portion snapped free all at once. It didn't exactly hurt that much, but it was not at all pleasant. It felt as if he were being stretched like a rubber band, released, and then snapped back.

The Praxian started a bit as the final tendril separated, instantly leaving him feeling empty and vulnerable as the spark began its decent to his gestational chamber. It was comforting, though, as his mate clasped his two larger hands over his slightly smaller.

Jazz grinned his trademark, lopsided smile as the fatigue began to overtake Prowl, and the mech became lax beside him. Being the tease that he was, he began to stroke Prowl's servo, just barely tickling the armor. His grin grew when Prowl's helm finally rolled down, his optics visibly shuttered and his breaths slow and even.

Not really tired, but too warm, comfortable, and lazy to get up, he pulled his mate closer to him, and continued his gentle administrations to the mech's sensitive doorwing.

* * *

Jazz bit his bottom lip as the long awaited sputtering burst from the sides of the ships before dying off, taking their engine with it. A glance at the petrol meter confirmed his suspicion, as the needle dipped just below empty. He glanced back at Prowl, currently resting but not entirely asleep in the captain chair beside him.

The Praxian had grown much the last groon and a half, currently marking their Exodus at approximately two groons. The bulge wasn't very large, yet, but more than noticeable on his too thin frame.

He refrained from looking at his own reflexion in the windshield, knowing that maybe not as thin as his mate, he wasn't the picture of health himself. Their energon stock, while technically enough for a few groons for four mechs, wasn't going to last forever. Instead of setting some aside for the sparkling and dividing up the rest, they had set some aside for the sparkling and created a common stockpile. Neither wanted to know just how little they had, and for how long.

Prowl's helm dipped low as he finally fell asleep. _Good. Savin' more energy._

Bored, Jazz started to click through the radio. Most channels spurted only static, but a few created garbled messages of a near distinguishable voice. He turned the volume down, and zeroed in a station near static free.

'To all Auto-'

Jazz slammed the radio off, anger squeezing his spark. Of course, the war would end the moment they ran out of rocket fuel. He glanced back over at his sleeping mate, eyeing the rounding stomach plating. It wasn't fair. It was _not _fair! Not to him, not to Prowl, and certainly not to the sparkling.

Jazz didn't have the high-tech, fancy computer's Prowl had, but he did have the basic CPU every bot had. Even he could come up with pretty accurate statistics of the situation.

_Chances of survival-Name input- Jazz._Might as well just test it._Situation-lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme ration. Enter._A little loading bar spun about, filling his vision for a moment._Results- Chance of survival-Possible, but decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx. 87.148%...recalculating 87.147%_

Jazz vented. If that percentage was to the situation of an innocent at gunpoint, Decepticon, of course, he would be extremely hesitant of taking a shot at the Con. Too close to 85% to be trusted.

_Chances of survival-Name input-Prowl._Work his way down to the sparkling._Situation-lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme ration, two groons sparked._Jazz leaned back as the blue loading bar appeared. His digits started to drum as the loading took too long for him, despite the lack of anything to do afterwards._Results-Chances of survival-Possible, but low and decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx. 75.5%_

Jazz bit his bottom lip, sucking a bit as he questioned what to do. Did he really want to see what the sparkling's would be if Prowl's was low because of it?

_Chances of survival- Name input- Unknown. More information required- Age of bot- Newspark/sparkling. First stage. Situation- lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme rations, newly extracted._His fingers drummed for another reason as he waited for the loading bar to disappear._Results-Chances of survival-Slim, and decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx.-34%._

Jazz powered down his HUD._That _was his sparklings chance after extraction? Was it even fair for it to be born in such conditions? While extinguishing was far out of the question, in both ethical evaluation and the fact that they had no means of doing so, it did look like a good option at the moment.

He rubbed his chin, nothing but worry enveloping him as he leaned back in his chair, optics shuttered. They'd-no-_he'd _figure something out. He had to. There was no other option.

There_was_something he could do. He reached over to the outer comm. controls, and turned on the message board. He tapped out a quick recording, and set it on an endless loop.

'_S.O.S' _was read out in three dots followed by three dashes, and then a trio of more dots. _'C.Q.D'_

_There. _Jazz nodded his approval._That's all Ah can do, for now._

* * *

A red dot blinked on the screen as a near-by comett made itself known. It wasn't close enough to cause worry in the Polyhexian. He turned towards the mech, once again resting but this time in the berth at the rather late hour.

"Hey, Prowler, ya up?" Jazz called. The Praxian hummed and stirred, but nothing more. Jazz frowned. Prowl needed the rest, but he could sleep in as there was _nothing to do_. "Prowler, come check this out."

The large, cratered comet was beginning to make itself known. Prowl wasn't going to want to miss this.

"Hey!" Jazz called out louder, pleased when a bit of blue light lit up the dark ceiling. An irritated face lifted itself up, questioning him silently. Jazz motioned towards the windshield with his helm. "Ah thought you'd wanna see this."

He turned his attention back to the window as Prowl vented and began the task of getting up. He had upset the Praxian earlier by laughing at him when he had tried to rise, and nearly failed due to the sparkling weighing him down. The best thing to do now was to keep his back turned and ignore him as he got up.

Bad idea as a metallic crash and thud sounded behind him. "Prowler." Jazz vented wide opticed as the mech struggled to hold himself up on the edge of the berth. "Easy, now."

It was too easy a task to lift him up and sit him on the berth. A confused, dazed look was in Prowl's dim optics as he continued to teeter. He slumped, saved from another spill only by Jazz's hand laying him back.

Jazz vented as he pressed a single button on the wall, the panel sliding back to reveal their ever decreasing stockpile. He picked up one cube, the same size as all the rest and just as scarce, and returned.

Prowl moaned softly as he began to come to, blinking the fuzz from his optics as he made out Jazz's distinguishable frame. He shook his helm, not trusting his voice just yet.

"Just a li'l'.' Jazz stated, holding the cube of blue, liquid gold out to the Praxian.

Prowl again shook his helm, slowly sitting up. The lightheaded feeling was still there, but just barely manageable if he vented and moved slowly. "I can't, Jazz. Not when we're running out."

Jazz shook his helm firmly, taking Prowl's hand himself and pressing the cube into it. "This is 'bout the sparklin', Prowler." Jazz stated, the percentages from-how long was it?- a few groon ago still animated in his processor.

Too weak to argue, and his systems screaming statistics in his helm of how much the one cube would help, he took it. After a sip, and the fog in his processor clearing a bit, Prowl cocked his helm to the side.

"Why were you calling me?" Prowl asked, glancing at the Polyhexian.

Jazz shrugged. "There was a comet. Thought ya'd wanna see it."

Prowl frowned into the cube, its glimmering fluid glowing off his white hands. "I made you miss it."

Jazz chuckled breathily, gently clapping a hand over his mate's shoulder. "It's all righ', jus'a comet. A big rock tha's gonna crash into some planet sooner or later."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge, but refrained from telling him just how improbable that was by taking another sip of the cube. The chances of a comet, or meteor, or anything of that size and magnitude getting close enough to a planet to get sucked into its gravitational pull? As if!

* * *

Prowl grumbled to himself as he shifted uncomfortably. He was much too large for his emaciated frame to support any longer, and spent a good deal too much sitting about. To top of the already miserable feeling, sharp contractions had started to show up. On and off all night, and even now as the day dragged on.

Jazz yawned widely, just barely covering it with the back of his hand. Prowl scoffed.

"I told you to recharge last night." Prowl stated in an unamused tone.

Jazz snorted. "And if the sparklin' had started ta come?"

Prowl stared blankly at the Polyhexian. Could he really, honestly be so dense? "I would have found a way to wake you up." he said dryly, grimacing a bit as his stomach tensed again.

The visored mech shrugged a bit. Another yawn cut off whatever he was going to say, and the blight blue band around his optics turned gray for a moment.

"Jazz, just get some sleep." Prowl ordered. "I don't think the sparkling will come while you have a nap."

Jazz scowled a bit, but was honestly too tired to care. He wouldn't _sleep_, just rest a bit. Shutter his optics from the bright light, cross his servos across his chassis, and relax.

Prowl couldn't hide the pitying smirk he gave his mate after the exhausted mech slumped forward in recharge. It was instantly replaced by a grimace of pain the next klik as a rather painful contraction hit him.

Jazz was an idiot, plain and simple. He had the option of recharging last night, but had decided against it because Prowl couldn't sleep. Where was the logic in that? They both had jobs to do; Prowl was to deliver and Jazz was to catch. How as Jazz supposed to do that half asleep?

The Praxian gasped a bit, hissing sharply as the contraction grew and lasted much longer than the others. He shuttered his optics tight, venting harshly until it passed. He didn't unshutter his optics once it had passed, though, but instead basked in the darkness. It was pleasantly warm under the warming blanket, space was very cold and retaining heat was hard as their protoforms thinned.

Prowl hummed to keep from gasping, or shouting, as the next contraction hit. He had to admit, it sounded odd to his own audios, but at least as quiet enough to keep Jazz asleep. He shuddered as an odd, new sensation pierced him. It felt almost like a latex band had snapped, like a water balloon.

He bit his bottom lip as a warm, liquid feeling soaked his upper pedes._Not good._He cleared his throat, loudly, and gasped as an even sharper contraction hit.

"Jazz?" he called once he was able to _breathe _again. "Jazz? I-I was wrong. I-" he hissed sharply, pausing for a moment. "The sparkling _is _going to initiate labor while you sleep."

The Polyhexian never stirred. In fact, if Prowl had been given a guess, he would have said that his tired mate had gone into a _deeper _REM state.

"Jazz?" Prowl called out again, a hint of panic in his voice as the contractions came a bit closer together. Wasn't this stuff supposed to take joors? "Jazz, wake up."

Prowl grunted as he pushed himself up and over the side of the berth. He took a klik to breathe and regain himself before hefting himself to his pedes. "Jazz? Wake up, please?" his face hardened in a scowl as his mate snored softly.

How dare he sleep at a time like this! Wasn't he the one so worried about him and all? Wasn't he the one making him lie about and do nothing, besides the fact that there was absolutely _nothing _to do?

"You had sure as frag wake up _now_." Prowl demanded, choking silently as he grabbed the back of Jazz's seat. "I am _not _giving birth and catching the sparkling. How is that going to work out, hmm? Are you going to sleep through all this, you aft?" his voice raised a bit as the contraction passed. He turned the seat to face the sleeping mech. "I'm-...sorry."

Jazz looked so innocent, his face sketched with worry and fear even in recharge. Now Prowl felt like the aft as he looked at the sleeping bot, thankful that Jazz hadn't heard anything he said. His grip tightened on the chair once again, making him forget all about how sweet Jazz looked in recharge.

"Wake up!" Prowl demanded sharply, his pedes buckling a bit as the contraction threatened to push him to the floor.

Jazz snorted a bit, groggily coming to. He hummed in confusion, asking Prowl what was going on.

"Nothing, Jazz." Prowl snarked. Wasn't it just amazing how one's personality changed so much when introduced to labor? "My oil just broke, n-" he choked. "nothing to worry about."

Jazz hummed sleepily, his helm lowering once again. Prowl's face hardened into one of determination and indifference, as in he was completely indifferent to how tired Jazz was. The Polyhexian started as a harsh slap to the servo rudely awakened him.

"Huh?"

"Jazz." Prowl moaned, half-sinking to one knee as he completely held himself up on the chair.

Jazz was on his feet in an instant. He took in the oil trail Prowl had left in his staggering to get to him, and pieced the obvious together like a fine detective.

"What are ya doin' up?" Jazz exclaimed, taking Prowl's servo and weight to get him back to the berth.

Prowl growled audibly, but refrained from answering. It would _not _have been nice.

"Ah thought ya said it was gonna take a while." dumb statement number two. Primus, did he _want _for Prowl to call him names and tear him apart?

"Well, obviously not." Prowl gritted out between clenched denta.

Jazz put his hands in the air, surrendering to Prowl's wrath, "Okay, okay. Sorry. Ah'm sorry, 'kay?"

"Don't patronize me." Prowl scolded, shuttering his optics and half-groaning half-hissing in pain.

"A-are ya sure you're ready?" Jazz asked, shifting on his pedes nervously. Prowl glared daggers directly into his spark. "Okay... so, what d'ya wan' meh ta do?"

Prowl blanked. "I'm not certain. I always figured we'd just know what to do, when the time came."

"Then you've been wrong twice today." Jazz stated, fiddling with his hands before awkwardly clapping a hand on Prowl's knee. Prowl scowled and grimaced once more, a near keen leaving his vocalizer.

Jazz hurried away from Prowl side and fumbled about the pod for the first aid kid. He grabbed up a few pain chips before motioning for Prowl's wrist.

"Are you certain-" he gritted his denta."Are you sure it won't hurt the sparkling?"

Jazz hesitated. He scolded himself. _Now's not the time ta be second-guessing._"Ah'm sure." he said, sliding one into Prowl's wrist, optics widening as he watched how fast it was drained. Another one was slid in. "Tha' helpin' any?"

"A bit." Prowl vented tiredly. His optics shuttered, his frame going lax. One of his optics opened in irritation after a sharp poke to his side.

"Are ya sure ya should be goin' ta sleep?' Jazz asked worriedly.

"I don't think anyone has ever s_lept _through _labor_." Prowl returned. "I don't think I'll be able to recharge anyways." he vented out.

"All righ'." Jazz seated himself on the floor, besides the berth.

He glanced towards the small first aid kit, wondering if it would be enough. They didn't have many pain chips, nothing to sterilize anything with, and only a few warming blankets to keep both Prowl and the sparkling warm, and clean up with. He rubbed at his temple, it doing nothing but still a bit comforting to the dull throb beginning. He glanced up at Prowl, both surprised and pleased to see the Praxian in a light recharge.

* * *

Panic seized his spark as the tiny, gray frame slid into his servos. There was just too much energon and oil to be good. He was torn between the gray but wailing frame shuddering and shivering in his servos, and his pale mate who had just slumped back.

"Shh." Jazz hushed the screaming sparkling in his arms as he grabbed the warming blanket and rubbed her briskly. Her gray color never changed, but instead darkened into a charcoal. A gray chevron on her forehelm began to take color, a deep cheery red seeping into it. Her chassis started to lighten to a creamy white, but nothing more than a stretched circle.

"Hey, li'l' femme." he shushed, rocking her back and forth as he turned to Prowl. His mate's optics were no longer open, and his pale, sickly color had not darkened back to its original shade.

Having to dispose of the bundle in his arms, he carefully leaned one of the padded captain's seats back and lay her in it. She cried at the loss of warmth and protection, but Jazz could do nothing about it as he hurried over to Prowl.

"Hey, com'mon." he pat his mate's hand, rubbing it the way he had rubbed the sparkling in hopes of reviving Prowl.

He bit his lip as the oil and energon turned to simply energon, pooling out beneath the mech. He rubbed his chin, completely unsure of what to do. The femmeling crying in the background didn't help his flustered nerves any either. He grabbed the top of his helm in a full out frenzy. A steady beeping caused him to whirl around to the monitor. He grabbed up the sparkling, quieting her once again. She squirmed and gurgled impatiently, hungry and cold.

"Easy, li'l' Zero." Jazz mumbled, stroking the lopsided 'O' on her chassis.

He slammed a closed fist down on the flashing red button, showing an incoming message.

'_This is Autobot Brawn to Autobot ship. Do you read me, over?'_

A calm began to cover up all the fear in Jazz's spark, most of it anyways. "Brawn, it's Jazz! I read ya loud 'n clear. Over."

'_Jazz?' _Brawn asked in disbelief. '_Am I glad to hear you. You need an assist? Over.'_

"Not as glad as meh." Jazz stated with shuttered optics and a vent, clutching Zero close. "Yeah, yeah we need some help. Over."

''_We' who else is with you?' _Brawn asked_. 'Over.'_

Jazz chuckled a bit, looking at the tiny sparkling currently trying to eat her thin, little digits. "One bot ya won't know. The other's..." he paused, looking back at the unconscious mech on the berth. "The other's Prowl. Tell meh ya got a good med-kit with ya. Over."

_'Yeah, we do. Someone hurt?' Brawn asked. 'Over' he added after a klik._

"Yeah, kinda." Jazz nodded. "How soon can ya get 'ere?"

Brawn waited for Jazz's signal of having finished speaking. When it never came, he spoke. '_We have you in our scanner's. ETA...ten breems, if we push it. Over'_

"Good." Jazz commed. "Keep talkin', wanna make sure Ah don' lose ya. Who's with ya'? Over."

_'Picked up an Aireal, Silverbolt. '_Brawn stated. '_And Huffer.'_

Jazz smirked despite himself at the name of the cranky mini-bot. He had given Prowl a run for his credits during their time at Headquarters, groons ago. He smirked, noticing just now that he had lost count of the orns long ago.

_'Get ready for docking.' _Brawn warned him as a small ship neared the pod, making the already small pod look even tinier.

Loud clicks and bangs sounded through the pod as and ship met in an extended passway, strong magnets holding both in place. The distinct hydraulic hissing of a door, and then the electronic beeping of a keypad told of the others closeness as they boarded the pod.

"Jazz, it's good to-" Brawn stopped mid-sentence, stupefied and entirely fixated on the squawking bundle in Jazz's servos.

"Jus' take 'er." Jazz ordered, thrusting the sparkling at the mini-bot.

Brawn shifted quickly, cradling the loose helm and limp frame in his servos. He stammered stupidly, looking at the gray sparkling and then back at the Polyhexian. She was so small, and shivered and crowed for attention and warmth.

"Hey, Bolt." Jazz motioned over the large mech. "Help meh get Prowler onto yer ship."

"Yes, sir." Silverbolt replied. He eyed the unconscious Praxian, but never questioned a thing. It wasn't his place.

Huffer, who had taken his time in crossing the short threshold, held his glossa as he looked about the small pod. He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it once again like a land stranded fish.

"If ya ain't gonna help, get outta the way." Jazz warned the purple and yellow mini-bot, who only nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, little one." Brawn said gently to the crying, hungry femmeling. "Let's get you situated and settled, hmm?"

* * *

"Jazz, sit down before you fall down." Brawn ordered, staring down the emaciated, visored mech who was currently working on wearing a hole through the ship's floor.

"Ah'm fine." Jazz brushed him off, waving his hand floppily.

"Jazz, you look like the bots we used to let out of Con reformation camps." Brown argued, grabbing hold of the twice-his-size mech and tugging him towards a seat. "Prowl will be fine, and Bolt is feeding your sparkling."

Jazz vented as he flopped down ungracefully into the seat. He smirked a bit as a warm cube of low grade was pressed into his hands. "Ah don' really look tha' bad now, do Ah?"

Brawn vented, rising on his pedes before going flat footed once again. "Well, you certainly don't look good. Drink that slow, too. Don't want you purging it all over the place."

Jazz rolled his optics as he took a sip of it. Their rations had been so small on the pod that it barely charged them for a few joor. This low grade felt as if it was giving him a buzz, one that before the Exodus could have only been obtained with a few cubes of High Grade.

His helm jerked upwards as a strangled cry reached his audios. Silverbolt bounced the femmeling, looking very flustered as he tried to calm her down.

"Lemme see 'er." Jazz motioned at the Aerial.

"I just can't seem to get her to eat." Silverbolt stated sheepishly as he deposited the sparkling and small cube into her sire's hands.

Jazz clicked his glossa a bit, getting the femmlings attention only a breem before wailing again. He tried pouring a bit of the warm fluid into her mouth. Too distressed to eat, though, it only dribbled down her vibrating chin. Jazz shook his helm.

"She knows Ah ain't Prowler..." he trailed off, glancing towards the still frame of his mate. If he looked even half as thin, haggard, and worn as Prowl did, he could see why Brawn was concerned.

"Do you think you'd be able to carry her over there?" Silverbolt asked, realizing the mech's intentions.

Jazz scowled. "Ah ain't made o' porcelin, ya know."

"We know." Brawn lay a hand on his servo. "But you do need to take it slow, get your strength back."

"I don't know if it'll help anything..." Huffer drawled in his typical, wining tone. "But I think there's a stool of something in storage."

"Then go get it!" Brawn exclaimed, more or less scolding the mech for his insolence. After the purple mech was without earshot, Brawn smirked. "He's been trying, in his own, odd way."

Jazz smirked, bouncing the fussy sparkling a bit. "Jus' how'd the three o' ya end up all the way out 'ere, anyways?" he asked.

"We received the 'all clear' from the Prime a few groons back." Brawn stated, tapping his pede a bit in impatience. Just where was that mini-mech, anyways? "Huffer and I escaped with a few other mini-bot, but we all got separated. After the comm. from Optimus, we returned to find we were the only in our squad to return so far. We got our hands on a ship, and went out to look for them, or any stragglers like you."

Jazz smirked a bit. He pointed with a single digit at the Aerial. "An' Bolt?"

"Same as us, got separated from his brothers." Brawn stated.

"I entered a stasis pod, by mistake." Silverbolt reddened a bit. It had been the Pit trying to stay together with his brothers, and that much harder to get a pod.

Jazz nodded, stroking Zero's servo a bit. It was so very small and thin. They all were. They were so very lucky in having been found. He brightened a bit after putting the scenario through his HUD.

_Chances of survival-Zero-92% and increasing_.

No need to see his and Prowl's, especially Prowl's. He didn't want to see his mate's, who he could feel faintly through the bond.

"I got it, it was all the way in the back." Huffer stated as the stool was placed next to the berth Prowl occupied.

"Thanks." Jazz said gratefully as he rose, surprised at his own unsteadiness, to sit again.

"Let me take her." Brawn demanded, pointing at himself with his digits. "If you fall, at least you won't take her with you."

Jazz shot daggers at the mini-bot with his visor, but gave her up anyways. He was only happy once again when he was comfortably seated on the three-legged stool, his sparking once again in his grip.

"Give them some room." Brawn ordered in a low, but still demanding voice as he dragged Huffer with him.

Jazz smirked a bit, until her turned towards his mate. He shifted the sparkling into one servo, using his free hand to take Prowl's spindly digits into his own. Primus, he felt like glass. He jerked back when Prowl shifted, as if afraid of shattering him. Lazily, the blue optics started to slide open, a venting moan from his lips.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked lowly, careful not to startle him. "It's okay, we're safe now."

"What hap'ned?" Prowl murmured, slowly turning hazy optics towards his mate.

Jazz shook his helm, not entirely sure what was wrong with Prowl himself. "Nothin', 'kay? Yer jus' drained from havin' Zero. Brawn picked up our signal, and now we're goin' back ta Cybertron."

Prowl hummed a bit, slowly sifting through the information. He paused, one bit of data standing out like a neon mech in a sea of gray. "Zero?"

The Polyhexian chuckled, moving to let his mate see the sparkling. "A femme, Prowler. Ah've been callin' 'er Zero cuz she's got one o' mah numbers." the mech motioned with his free hand to the red '04' on his chassis.

"I thought designations were supposed to be discussed." Prowl stated tiredly, his systems threating to put him into recharge again. Or stasis.

"Fine, ya can change it if ya wan'." Jazz smirked. He held her up, letting her pedes dangle and the blanket slip into his lap. "What she look like to ya?"

Prowl frowned. "Don't hold her like that." he let his thin digits brush over her frame as she was settled beside her, for once calm and curios of her surroundings. "She looks like..." Prowl muttered.

"Wha' was tha'?" The Polyhexian smirked triumphantly.

"Zero." Prowl replied dryly. "Has she been fed yet?"

Jazz shook his helm. "Nope. Been tryin' ta, she jus' won't take it."

"Let me try." Prowl said, struggling to sit up.

"Are ya sure?" Jazz asked, rising quickly to help prop the mech up.

"May I have the cube?" Prowl more demanded then asked as he cradled _his _sparkling.

"Here." a purple mini-bot said out of nowhere, a cube of warm low grade in his hands.

Jazz quirked an optic ridge as he accepted it. Huffer with a soft spot for sparklings. Who knew, right?

Brawn frowned from across the room as he noticed a lack of company beside him. "Huffer! I told you to leave them alone!" he shouted across the room.

"I was only trying to help!" Huffer returned. "_Primus_, you're always telling me to help out, but when I do-"

"Cool it and get your aft back over here." Brawn ordered, orange servos over his brown chassis.

Huffer slumped in defeat and sulked back to the control panel. Jazz chuckled a bit as he shifted the cube in his hands a moment. A fussing cry turned his attention back to his mate and sparkling beside him.

"Lemme help ya." Jazz offered, sliding behind Prowl and cradling the Praxian's servos in his own. He looked so weak and tired, barely able to hold himself up let alone a sparkling.

Prowl didn't say anything, but looked smug as the femme not only accepted, but chugged the energon from the cube Prowl held. Jazz leaned towards his audios, his warm vents tickling his neck.

"We went through the Exodus, Prowler." he whispered. "Get ready for the Gospel."

* * *

Author's Note- 'Exodus' means 'to go out from' or 'to leave' (See- Exodus in the Bible, when Moses led the enslaved Jews from Egypt to the Promised Land) 'Gospel' means literally 'Good News' (See- Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John of the Bible) Also 'C.Q.D' is a real morse code signal standing for 'Come Quick, Danger'. The _Titanic_ sent out many CQD's before becoming the first ship to use the famous (or infamous) SOS. If the book I read was correct, anyways!

Shout out to **Nikkie2010** for beta-ing this! Thank you ever so much in helping me improve in writing (and school!)

Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! I don't have good internet access, but if I could thank all of you in turn I would! Ya'll know who you are, right?

A bit angsty, like the last chapter, but this ties in with _Ratchet's Sick Days_, so this just explains one of the later chapter in it.

Big thank you to **Autobot Dragonfly **for the use of her OC Zero! Zero is now in DeviantArt for any of you who wish to see it, drawn by Dragonfly herself. She's there under the same username if you look her up!

At Dragon- Femme, we need to get back on our RPGs! So sorry about leaving you hanging so often! You-me-Howrse? :)


	5. Chapter 5 Kup, Dinobots, Blurr

**Dinobots, Kup, and Blurr**

* * *

It felt as if the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulder. In a sense, that was completely correct. He was the center of their own little world. A protector, comforter, peacemaker, and 24/7 bot-sitter.

The floor vibrated beneath his pedes as the twice-his-size bot neared him, his oversized, cloddy feet clunking heavily as he thudded through the hull. It was impossible to ignore the beady, near black optics that peered down at him.

"What is it, Grimlock?" Kup vented as he turned from the small monitor to the large Dinobot behind him.

"You, Kup, tell us, Dinobots, another war story?" Grimlock pleaded, his simple processor too much like a sparkling's for his oversized body.

"Me, Slag, want story too." the triceratops seconded, scrambling on stubby legs to stand beside his leader.

Kup sighed audibly, watching as Swoop, Sludge, and Snarl neared as well. "Okay, okay. Just settle down, and let an old bot think a bit." If it kept them all quiet and let Blurr rest for a while longer, then he'd tell them stories until they became bored of them. Or he ran out, which was becoming much more a possibility as time dragged on.

The floor shook as each one plopped down on some sort of tail, Grimlock going the extra astro-mile and stretching out on his stomach plating.

"Have I ever told you all about the time I was stranded in the Dust Heap of Cybertron, surrounded by petro-rabbits and with no chance of escape?"

"Me, Grimlock, love that one!" the t-rex exclaimed as he leapt up. He hung his helm quickly as Kup crossed his servos with an unmistakeable-even to a Dinobot-look on his face. "I mean, no, Kup."

Kup motioned for the Dinobot to sit back down as he started. "It was a cold orn, much colder than it is here in space. The dust was so thick I couldn't see my own optic shutters! I was-"

* * *

_Thank Primus for Dinobots! That, or thank Primus that it was his turn to watch them for the orn._

_"What's wrong with you all?" Kup asked after he had entered their 'cave', only to find each one crouched down and shifting nervously. Usually a bot couldn't hear himself think with all the noise going about, and Kup was never allowed to enter without demands for a story._

_Grimlock shushed him, small optics shuttering again as he strained to listen for something. Swoop, who was normally never off his perch, crouched beside Grimlock and seemed to be listening as well. Come to think of it, as did Slag, Snarl, Sludge._

_"Me, Grimlock, don't like this." the tyrannosaurus-bot muttered as he sniffed the air._

_"Something no feel right." Swoop agreed, hopping from one thin, short pede to the other._

_"What are you all talking about?" Kup demanded as he patted Sludge's long neck. A scared Dinobot was never good._

_"Me smell trouble." Grimlock stated, growling as Kup laughed._

_"You can't smell trouble!" Kup exclaimed as he rolled a shoulder. "You feel it." _Old war wound's acting up. They might not be that far off from the truth.

_Kup's comm. rang, surpring the Dinobots enough for them to jump back from him, prepared to melt the noise into oblivion. The sea green mech rolled his optics as he reached up to press it, ignoring the snort from Grimlock._

_His hand fell away, spark full of horror, as he glanced at each Dinobot. Ships? Escape? Only hope? They'd lost Cybertron. Not just the Autobots, but every Transformer alike._

_How to break it to the Dinobots, though, may pose an even larger problem then dodging whatever last-attempt the Decepticons had in store. Telling them what he had just heard might send them into a frenzied rampage, and then there would be no reasoning with them._

_"Hey, I have an idea." Kup started lamely, just barely disguising the fear in his voice. "Why don't-why don't we play a game?"_

_Grimlock, surprisingly, shook his helm. "No play games when something wrong."_

_That wasn't going to work. "I...I have a surprise for all of you." he floundered._

_Grimlock looked intrigued, sparking interest in the rest of the Dinobots. "Surprise? What kind of surprise?"_

_"Well..." Kup trailed off for a klik. "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise now, wouldn't it?"_

_Swoop shook his helm quickly. "No, me guess not."_

_"Quiet!" Grimlock roared, silencing the rather timid pterodactyl. "Me Grimlock leader! Me answer question!" He snorted, satisfied, as Swoop ducked his beak. "Now, what was question, again?"_

_Primus help me. Kup prayed. "Come along, now. If you want this surprise, though, you're going to have to listen to everything I say. Got it?"_

_Another fruitless attempt at reasoning as Grimlock shook his helm. "Me, Grimlock, no take orders from puny Kup. Me big, strong bot. You take orders from me!"_

_"Whatever you say." Kup agreed as he slid back the entrance to the Dinobot hideout. "Why don't you lead us out?"_

_Grimlock snorted as he took the offered lead. This was just how he liked it. Smaller, puny bots answering to him! He wasn't leader of the Dinobots for nothing!_

_Even the great Grimlock stopped after leaving the hideaway. He felt the others crowd around him, and pause as well. Kup vented as he took in their surroundings. Total destruction didn't even begin to cover it. There was absolutely nothing left, no base in the distance, no crystal structures rising by the road. Nothing but inky blackness and a darkening sky._

_"Me, Grimlock, no like this surprise." the Dinobot seemed to whimper as he looked about in confusion._

_What had happened to their home? Mind you, there had never really been much surrounding the Dinobot base, but the Autobot's HQ used to have been visible on the horizon. It looked like the art of Seeker missiles, but shouldn't they have felt something? Aftershocks at least?_

_"I'll explain as soon as it's safe." Kup promised as he goaded the oversized bots into motion._

_"We meet up with Ultra Magnus and Hot Rod and Wheelie?" Swoop questioned from above, the black sky making his orange and brown colors pop._

_"I don't know." Kup admitted as he picked along debris. Maybe they should check the base-or what was left of it at least. "Wanna go see?"_

_Grimlock nodded hesitantly, taking an unsure step forward and stopping. "Erm...where base, Kup?"_

_"Just follow me." Kup stated, taking the lead himself. He vented as Grimlock followed without a fight, too confused to focus on anything except the one thing familiar in all the destruction: Kup._

_A moan left his vocalizer as he stood atop what had once been the roof, now flipped over to show the charred orange of the ceiling. There was nothing left. If anyone had been unlucky enough to get caught behind...Kup sent up a prayer for their sparks._

_"Swoop, why don't you go above and see if you can find anyone." Kup ordered in a suggestive tone of voice, enough so that Grimlock didn't find it ordering._

_"Yes, Kup." Swoop squawked as he flapped his wings multiple times, getting a good height away from the ground. He hovered in spot like a Seeker, moving about in a circle to get a bird's eye-or a Dinobot's optic- view. "Me see something!" he exclaimed before nose-diving back down._

_"What is it?" Kup pressed. If there was a survivor in all this rubble, it wouldn't be right to leave him._

_Swoop shrugged awkwardly, nearly crashing the few astro-yards left to the ground in the process. He righted himself, and turned in the direction in which he had seen something. "Me don't know, but saw something move!"_

_"Can you show me?" Kup pleaded, looking to where the Diniobot pointed with his beak. He was shown to where a wall had fallen, another one crashing on top of it. He shook his helm as he looked it over, careful not to step on anything that might have been, at one point, a body. "It must have been nothing."_

_"But me, Swoop, see something!" the pterodactyl insisted, landing and going into his rarely used bi-pedal mode to pull up bits of rubble and large pieces of twisted metal._

_"Swoop-" Kup started lowly, stopping as a muffled moan reached his audios. "Primus! Hang on, we'll get you out." he called loudly, falling to his knees beside Swoop to dig out whoever it was._

_"Me, Grimlock, want help too!" the heavy mech stomped a pede in impatience as he began to near._

_"Stay back!" Kup exclaimed, springing to his pedes. "You could step on him!"_

_"Me, Grimlock, want to help." the t-rex roared, glaring at the mech who dared to tell him no._

_"But you would be so much more helpful looking out for Decepticons." Kup sighed. "But if you think someone else should -"_

_"Me look out for puny Decepticons!" Grimlock shouted, taking a defensive stance. "Me destroy Decepticons!"_

_"Good, lad." Kup vented in relief as he fell back to digging. A mangled but unmistakeable blue servo was clearly visible. "Blurr." Kup groaned as the dented helm-crest came into view._

_"K-Kup?" the blue speedster choked out, cracking open an optic. His vents were fast, but his speaking too slow to be normal for him._

_"Easy, son." Kup soothed as he pushed away the remaining scrap on top of him, taking in the injuries. He had been crushed between the two walls, simply put. His frame was only recognizable by its soft blue and white coloring, and the long crest pluming back from the front of his helm and over to the back. It was dented out of shape, though, and its tipped end broken off._

_Blurr coughed up soot and a few drops of energon as Kup helped him to sit up, moaning as his many leaking injuries were aggravated._

_"Careful." Kup warned the Dinobot who was helping to support the youngling. "Blurr, can you walk?"_

_"I-I -think- so." the youngling choked out, breaking off into violent, soot filled coughs again._

_"Give me your weight." Kup ordered, the light frame leaning onto him the instant he said it. "We'll go slow."_

_Blurr managed to laugh a bit, it coming off as a whimpered chuckle as he limped harshly. His one pede was sliced down from the punched in knee to his foot. It leaked violently, but there was nothing that could be done for it until they reached the pods._

_"Grimlock, it's time for you to lead us again!" Kup called at the distracted Dinobot with his helm in the clouds._

_Grimlock slapped Sludge on the back of the helm, gaining the Apatosaurus' attention. "Me, Grimlock, say let's go!"_

_Painstakingly slow, especially for Blurr, Kup began to lead the youngling on. Blurr bit his glossa almost to the point of severing it to keep from shouting in pain. He had been so afraid of offlining there, sandwiched between the two walls. All the speed in the world hadn't been able to keep him from between them, and it had taken a slow Dinobot to get him out! It was…humbling._

_His helm felt too heavy, and hung forwards. Grimacing at the sight of his dissected pede, he forced it back up. Once back up, he would have rather looked at his pede again._

_"Decepticons!" Grimlock shouted fiercely, his beady optics narrowing at the two, lone Seekers circling above them like vultures._

Slag_. Kup cursed as he shifted Blurr to a better position. They were probably trying to escape, like them. But, unlike them, they'd attack non-threatening bots simply because of their insignia. "Steady, Blurr. Just keep walking and ignore them."_

_Blaster fire rained down, directed at the Dinobots but scattered and unpredictable enough to almost hit Kup in the back, and Blurr in the front._

_"Fraggit." Kup growled as he yanked the youngling sharply, causing more harm than good as he missed the red bolt, but jarred the open wound more. Processor working double-time, he prayed that the Dinobots would be reasonable. _Yeah, right_. "Sludge, get over here!"_

_Closing his mouth and cutting off the noxious gas he was spraying, the long-necked Dinobot waddled over to the smaller mech and youngling. "Why you, Kup, want me? Me fight-"_

_"I have an important mission for you." Kup cut him off, the only thing keeping them from the scattered shots of the Decepticons was the thick hide of Sludge._

_"Really?" Sludge asked excitedly, bending down awkwardly to look into Kup's face better. "What?"_

_"You're going to be Grimlock's second, and lead next to him." Kup played off of the natural instinct of the Dino's to lead and follow. "But, to do so, you have to let Blurr ride you."_

_"What?" the youngling exclaimed, refraining from jumping back only to save himself the pain. "I-can't-ride-a-Dinobot! It's-it's...crazy!"_

_"You can't keep going on on that pede of yours." Kup stated firmly. "You're too big for me to carry, and the rest of the Dinobots are too rough." _Besides Swoop, but it wouldn't look right for you to dangle down from him. _Ignoring anything else the speedster had to say about being fine and able to continue, he turned to Sludge. "Crouch down and let Blurr climb on."_

_"I'm hit! I'm hit, TC!" a voice called from above, spinning out slightly as his broken tailfin smoked._

_"Slaggit, 'Warp! You're such an idiot!" the other Seeker, black and blue in contrast to purple and black, cursed. "Retreat and regroup with the others."_

_"What others? They left us-" the purple one's agreement quieted as they flew farther and farther away before disappearing._

_Kup shook his helm as he half-lifted half-tossed the blue youngling onto the back of the Dinobot. Cons, typical cowards and half-afters. "You up there?"_

_The youngling hummed in the positive, if more of a whimper than an answer. His pedes were spread out awkwardly over both sides of the long-necked dinosaur, and he held himself steady by pressing his hands between his legs on the Dinobot's back._

_"Take it slow." Kup pleaded, hoping that Sludge was a better listener than his brethren._

_Blurr held back a grimace as Sludge began to trod on, his haunches swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It was nauseating, to say the least. He shuttered his optics to the swaying world, focusing only on trying to vent and ignore the burning pain in his pede._

_"You doing okay up there?" Kup's voice penetrated his pounding helm, despite the gentility and quietness it held._

_Blurr couldn't find it in him to answer. He didn't want to purge, and was too focused on not falling off._

_Five breems later, with the pods just in sight, his frame couldn't take the strain any longer and he slumped forward and to the right._

_"Whoa!" Kup exclaimed, the hand he had kept on the youngling's good pede to hold him steady jerking forward to stop his descent. "Sludge, stop!"_

_Blurr moaned lowly, his optics flickering dangerously close to gray. His blue frame was easily pushed over onto the Dinobot's neck. Kup sighed softly._

_"Kid, kid, can ya hear me? Blurr?" he tapped the scratched and crushed pede. As terrible as it seemed, it looked beter then the other one._

_Blurr mumbled a yes, his cheek rubbing on Sludge's neck in the process. Kup's aged hand felt so strong on his arm, holding him upright on the Dino._

_"Wrap your arm around his neck. There's a good lad." Kup patted his 'good' pede once. "Just take some deep vents, we're almost there."_

_Blurr only mumbled something incoherent as Kup urged the Dinobots to move again, shuttering his optics and clinging on for dear life._

* * *

"-and then the ship landed and took me out of the Pit and brought me back to the base." Kup finished, venting silently in relief. At least that had burnt out a few joors, and now all the Dinobots excluding Swoop were in recharge.

He crept silently over the thick pedes and sprawled servos on the floor to the reclined chair. While he was positively sure that he hadn't made a single noise, two dim optics slid open as soon as he had touched the armrest.

"Hey." he said lowly. "How ya feeling?"

"Been better." the youngling slurred sleepily, shifting uneasily. He felt so stiff and sore, and his hurt pede felt as if it had been set fire to with acid.

Kup motioned at the heavily bandaged pede. "Can I take a look?"

Blurr nodded slowly, his optics following the sea green hands as they slowly peeled back the bandages. The elder mech's face showed nothing as he looked it over, but he made a warning noise as Blurr tried to sit up and look himself.

"You don't wanna." he stated simply. From his point of view, it didn't look good. It was growing an angry blue color, standing out on his light blue paint. "I'm gonna clean it up a bit, all right?"

Blurr nodded, but kept quiet. It was near ritualistic now. Kup pulled down the med-kit from its spot, hidden away were curious Dinobots couldn't find it. A bottle of stinging antiseptic was pulled out, just barely sloshing about with its contents. A gauze pad was torn open, and then torn apart to make a smaller one. The silvery liquid stained the cloth, but nothing else. As much as Kup hated to be frugal with the medical supplies, there was only a little left. The only thing they had enough of were pain chips, as Blurr refused them more often than not.

"This'll sting." Kup warned for warning's sake. Blurr tensed and hissed out as the cool liquid pressed against the open wound, but never complained.

Blurr managed a weak smile up at the older bot. "Hurts-less-then-last-time."

Kup hummed in disbelief as he dabbed the gauze pad, removing streaks of the infection and energon from the gash. That finished, he removed the soiled bandages, and unwound the last bit they had from the spool.

"There." Kup announced once the pede was rebound. "Your back bothering you still?"

Blurr shook his helm. It was a boldfaced lie, his bent but not broken spinal struts aching terribly, but Kup didn't need to know. He had enough to deal with as it was. Five rambunctious Dinobots, and one injured youngling? His nerves must be worn thin after an entire groon of this slag.

"You-gonna-get-some-rest?" Blurr asked hopefully, forcing on a smirk as the green mech yawned and stretched.

"You betcha." Kup stated as he slid into one of the other chairs. _Primus, give me strength._

* * *

Kup onlined with a start. Blinking the sleep from his optics, he groggily glanced about in search of the disturbance. It hadn't been the Dinobots, each snoring on the floor. The ship was still in idle, and out of any path of asteroids and meteors. A shuddering moan reached his audios, low enough to not disturb anyone. Anyone but Kup the Light Sleeper.

"Blurr?" Kup asked in a hushed tone. An awoken Dinobot was a cranky Dinobot. "Hey, Blurr, you all right, lad?"

A gasp, followed by sharp pants were his answer. Overly bright, shockingly large optics turned to him as he grasped the youngling's hand.

"Blurr, you have to tell me what's wrong." Kup urged, tapping the light blue servo to try and get the youngling to respond.

A keen escaped his vocalizer, staticed and whining as pain filled his frame. His pede felt like it was on fire, after having been doused in acid and cut apart just for fun. It burned deep into the struts, and ached worse than the time Grimlock_ had _stepped on him back on Cybertron.

"Easy." Kup soothed as he pulled of the bandage wrapping, exposing the heavily infected slice. The paint nanites surrounding it were growing dark, graying slowly over the past few orns. "Cycle some air, slowly now."

Blurr tried, as hard as he could, but he couldn't escape the panicky feeling of choking as his ventilation shafts felt as if they were being crushed. He felt Kup's hand wrap around his, his voice becoming quieter and more distorted bit by bit.

The elderly mech flinched at the low near-keen moan that escaped the youngling as he moved him up gently and stroked the overheating helm in his lap.

"It's all right." Kup soothed, relief entering has spark as the bright optics started to dim and shutter. "You'll be all right, lad."

With a soft, tired moan, Blurr fell lax under Kup's hand, and slipped into recharge. Kup vented to himself as he continued the administrations. He prayed that it was his aging optics that made it look like Blurr's pede had darkened another shade, and not what he thought it was.

* * *

"Cut it out!" Kup shouted above the noise, slapping his hands over his audios.

Grimlock roared again, slapping Snarl in the face with his tail. Snarl, not to be outdone, smashed the T-rex's tail with his own spiked one. Grimlock roared out once more, more angered than pained, and brought down his large mouth in an attempt to bite the disobedient Dinobot.

"I said quit it!" Kup shouted, his own voice barely audible to himself, as he shoved at Grimlock. It only shifted the Dinobot from one pede to the other, but it at least got his attention and silenced all of them. "Now, I know you're just as sick of being in here as I am, but you can't fight! There's not enough room."

"Me-"

"I don't care." Kup scowled sharply enough to silence the Dinobot leader. He turned away a klik, tapping his chin in thought. What was something he could give the Dinobots to do to calm them all down? Nothing seemed to get them out of a mood, though, except fighting or destroying something.

_Of all the bots to get stuck with... _Kup mused sullenly as his optics darted about the room. A sudden thought hit him as he zeroed in on a stack of blankets.

"Sit down." he ordered. "All of you." The room shook as each Dinobot landed on their aft like a bunch of obedient dogs. "Good. Now, I have a little...project, for the lot of you."

"What is it?" Swoop asked eagerly, tilting his helm as he was handed a warming blanket. He threw it down with a frown. "Me, Swoop, not tired."

"What you want us to do with blankets?" Grimlock asked in similar confusion as he held up the blanket to his face.

"You all are going to tear them into strips." Kup directed, demonstrating once or twice with one of the blankets himself. He settled into a turned captain's chair, facing the back of the pod. "And I'm going to tell another story while you do that."

"Your old war stories?" Sludge asked eagerly as he went into bi-pedial mode and picked up a blanket from the stack. He landed back on the ground with a resounding 'thud'.

Kup all but laughed. "You all are running me dry of war stories! But, yes, it does have to do with the war...but it isn't exactly mine. Or old, for that matter."

"Who's it 'bout?" Slag questioned as he tore his blanket apart with vigor. Long strands of string hung from the irregular shaped strip, and it narrowed down to a point, but it was keeping them quiet.

"Well, it's about a mech I'm pretty sure all of you know." Kup chuckled to himself, softly, as he remembered the time. "It's about the only bot I know that's ever run all of Cybertron in one orn." After the beady optics around him widened, he smirked. What's a good tale without a few yarns? "Twice."

Grimlock snorted in shock and disbelief. "Nobot can do that! Who did it?"

"Why don't you all try to guess while I tell?" Kup asked with a grin. He vented inwardly as all five Dinobots nodded eagerly. "Well, Ultra Magnus had given -this bot a top secret message to give to Optimus Prime, all the way on the other side of Cybertron."

"Couldn't he have bridged there?" Swoop asked with a cocked helm, hands stilled in mid-rip.

"Well, he could have." Kup pretended to think it over for a klik. "But we were low on energon, and the only bridge within ten-er twenty astro-miles was taken over by Cons."

At the mere mention of the enemy, ten optics flashed a shade darker and multiple growls rumbled out. Blurr, who had been silently watching from his berth of a seat, smirked slightly at the reaction.

"Yep, poor bot didn't know what to do! He came running to me, speaking so fast I could barely catch a word he said." Kup continued on, motioning about with his hands with extra emphasis. "Well, I told him that he was going to have to do what he did best. He was gonna have to get the message there on his own two pedes."

A pause, just for dramatic effect, left five of his six-bot audience captive. "What happened next?"

"What happened next?" Kup repeated as he sank back into the seat some. "That bot did just what I told him, is what happened. Before I could even shutter an optic, that bot was clear to...Tyger Pax!"

"Wasn't Optimus in Iacon?" Swoop asked, just a bit more processor knowledge then the rest. "And...where was this bot from?"

"Epsilon." Kup answered easily. "Right where you all were stationed. Well, you'd never guess what that bot ran smack into, falling back harder than if he'd hit a brick wall head on."

"What?" Grimlock asked, his blanket all but forgotten in his lap.

"Megatron himself." Kup leaned forward in his seat, fists clenched. "The bot jumped right up and zoomed away before the warlord even knew what had knocked him off his pedes! After getting out of Tyger, that bot found himself right back where he started. Deciding it safer to go the other way, he took off running again."

"Where'd he end up then?" Slag asked eagerly, tearing yet another strip off and tossing it into the growing pile.

"Well, that bot made one heck of a geographical error." Kup frowned as he was met with black stares. "He read the map wrong." He rolled his optics as understanding clicked in the tiny processors. "He ended up on the outskirts of Kaon, and had to backtrack right back to Epsilon."

"Who is it?" Grimlock questioned, dropping his blanket to focus more on the story.

"Still haven't figured it out?" Kup smirked before continuing on with his story.

The little pile of torn strips grew into a decent pile, and was finished long before Kup finished his tale. Venting in relief as the last helm slipped down, optics shuttered in recharge, Kup pushed himself up to inspect the Dinobot's work.

"I-I don't remember it happening that way." Blurr's voice, too close to a normal pace for Kup not to worry about it, croaked up.

Kup shrugged as he grabbed a fistful of the strips, walking the few steps to the laid back chair. "I only told it the way I remembered."

Blurr raised an optic ridge as Kup fell silent, using the blanket strips as makeshift bandages. He bit his glossa to keep from saying anything about how gray it was becoming. He didn't want to worry Blurr, or himself.

"Just...just how much truth is in your regular stories?" Blurr piped up after a few silent kliks.

"Hey, all my stories are 95% true." Kup raised a hand in promise, a twinkle in his dark blue optics.

Blurr hummed in uncertainty, breathily laughing a klik. Kup frowned as Blurr's sorry attempt turned into harsh, dry coughs.

"Get some rest, lad." Kup said as he finished tying off a Dinobot bandage. He clasped Blurr's good knee cap a moment, watching the heavy blue optic covers slowly close themselves.

Returning to his chair, Kup decided that a well-deserved nap was in demand.

* * *

"Kup?"

Kup lifted his helm and turned towards the bow of the ship, where a winged Dinobot in bi-pedal mode stood, a hand on the dial. His hand slid from the burning forehelm on the chair tuned berth as he turned and headed over.

"What is it, Swoop?" Kup asked, optics darting about the control panel. They still had fuel, the temperature was regulating fine, there were no ships in the scanners, and there were no alarm bells, lights, or whistles going off. Whatever it was, though, had excited the flying bot.

"I-I think I found something." the Dinobot stated unsurely as he shifted from pede to pede, one servo tucked behind his back as he nervously stroked his wing.

Kup followed the other servo, still grasping the radio controls. "You picked up a signal."

Swoop nodded swiftly, taking his hand from his wing and placing it on the volume. Static assaulted their audios for only a nanosec before a faint voice came through.

Grimlock, previously having been scratching unintelligible 'pictures' into the metal siding of the wall, stopped his art and turned his hulking frame to stare at the tiny speaker. "That Optimus! Me, Grimlock, know him, Optimus, voice anywhere!"

Kup bent down, placing his audio over the faint broadcasting, turning his audios up as high as they would go. A smile broke out across his face and he shuttered his optics, planting this moment as one of his top stories to tell to the next generation of Cybertronians.

"Strap in, bots." Kup ordered, swinging himself into the pilot's chair and lifting down the Y-shaped steering stick. "Not you, Swoop." the minty colored mech stopped the pterodactyl from seating himself on the floor. "I need you to keep an optic on Blurr. Can you do that?"

The winged preda-bot nodded, going to the light blue's side with a medic's skill. Little known by many bots, Swoop, as one of the most evolved member of the Dinobot family, had actually trained under the medic Ratchet during his early orns of learning. He had a grace and gentility all his own, with just enough compassion to offer support during a painful procedure without going completely soft.

Despite his good traits, Swoop was often looked down on by his fellow Dinobots, beat around the way only close siblings could. While not out rightly abused, he was often pushed aside or scolded for his gentility by Grimlock, followed by the others. It often made him very self-conscious, reserved, quiet, and unsure.

It wasn't even ten breems into the journey home when that unsure voice all but turned Kup away from the windshield. "Kup?"

"What is it, Swoop?" Kup found himself asking again within the joor.

"Him, Blurr's, pede look odd." Swoop said as he studied the limp with a cocked helm, the scrutinized bot unaware of anything in his fevered recharge.

"I know, Swoop." Kup vented, knowing good and well how the injury looked. Still raw and open, even after the two groons he had tried to keep it clean and wrapped. Infection had long since set in, turning it all sorts of ugly colors, and his pede itself had turned a color all its own. Gray. Light, steely, deathly gray, that left silvery partcles on whatever it touched and mimicked death in more ways than one.

Kup shook away the reoccurring memory of Blurr having a full panic attack as he learned that, besides the pain, he had no feeling at all in it. His freak out had only become worse as he spazzed out, his leg never moving a micrometer.

"Just keep it covered and Blurr still, alright?" he called over his shoulder watching the reflection of the orange, winged mech pulling the blanket over the slumbering figure's legs.

* * *

Epilogue

Kup blinked away the sting in his optics as he looked at the figure coming around the bend. He had promised himself he wouldn't cry, no matter how bittersweet the reunion became.

It was a simple meeting, consisting of only the two of them. The second bot had asked if they could meet somewhere outdoors, suggesting the newly restored and very spacious Iaconian Crystal Gardens.

It had been nearly a full vorn since they had landed at the dock, constructed by none other than a Team Prime member himself, Bulkhead. He hadn't been alone in landing, other ships and pods had surrounded the spacious port. In the midst of the joyful chaos, bots reunited, tears of happiness and pain as they embraced one another after groons of fear and wandering. Field medics, doctors, and any kind of bot with a scrap of medical training went about doing on sight repairs or taking away any terribly wounded to a makeshift hospital.

Blurr had been among those carted away at the speed of light, not that the pace would have bothered the speedster had he been awake. Or lucid.

"Kup?" the figure was closer now, within talking distance, if voices were raised. "Kup!"

It was harder to blink back the tears this time as the speedster didn't speed towards him. Instead, he walked with an odd, tight, limped gait as he pushed himself to cross the distance as fast as he could.

"Blurr, you're...looking better than the last I saw." Kup managed to say once the youngling, in his optics anyways, stopped before him.

"I'm-feeling-better." Blurr said rapidly, his unique speech pattern completely restored.

Kup couldn't help but glance down, biting his glossa to keep from saying something that might offend the youngling. The pede, a few shades off-color but nothing a new coat of paint wouldn't fix, was not his own. Instead, a seemingly much too thin prosthetic took its place, looking more like a painted stick with a foot and hinge joint.

Blurr, noticing the close to staring gaze, shifted to his good pede. "Yeah...the-medics-who-took-me-didn't-have-materia ls-to-make-me-a-new-real-pede. They-said-my-frame-wouldn't-have-accepted-one-anyw ays. Instead-they-gave-me-this-one. They've-taught-me-to-use-it-for-a-few-groons-and-I 'm-still-doing-therapy-but-they-said-I'm-doing-a-l ot-better-at-it-and-I-won't-need-physical-therapy- soon-any-more."

"That's good to hear." Kup pasted a smile on his face.

Blurr nodded rapidly in agreement. "Yep! I-still-can't-run-"he said with severe disappointment. " -but-they-said-I-might-be-able-to-get-some-speed-b ack-if-I-keep-practicing."

Kup only nodded, drawing his optics from the odd pede to face the youngling. While Blurr seemed to be making a near full recover, he would never ever be able to forget the few groons they had shared with the Dinobots in space. It topped all of his war stories in a way that he couldn't understand. Maybe it was because, exaggerations excluded, this story felt different. It was more subtle, yet screamed in his audios and haunted his mind at night. Maybe it was because that, despite the inglorious way it looked, how it lacked fight and valor, it contained exactly that.

Also, it was his one story not involving the use of even one petro-rabbit.

Kup nodded in accordance with what Blurr was rattling off about, going an astro-mile a minute as was his back to norm. All that was missing from their little reunion was five, hunking, bulky frames.

As if reading Kups mind, Blurr continued on. "Too-bad-the-Dinobots-couldn't-show."

Kup chuckled unsure if he should happy or upset about the fact. "Eh, what's matters is that they got room to expand on their little 'island'." Island indeed. It was more of a secluded park and earth replica cave, just perfect for the stone aged bots.

"Expand?" Blurr tilted his helm. "You-mean-there're-more-of-them?"

Kup shrugged. "Who knew Swoop was a carrier. Last I heard they had some kind of preda-bot-scan sparkling they designated Paddles."

"Paddles?" Blurr laughed, easily keeping up with Kup's slow pace as they wandered about the crystal garden, catching up and remaining ignorant of the setting suns until the crystals had long since shone in the moons' light.

"Maybe-we-can-do-this-again?" Blurr asked hopefully, taking the hand offered him as they prepared to go their separate ways.

"Sure, kid." Kup agreed. He smiled softly. "Maybe next time you'll run into me." His smile slowly crept into a well-meaning grin, in which Blurr returned.

"I-sure-hope-so!" he replied as he reluctantly released the older mech's hand. "See-ya."

Slowly, half limping, their little meeting broke up as Blurr took one path and Kup followed suit by taking another. Slowly, the sun crept up behind the towering and some half constructed buildings as it marked the beginning of another orn, and a new era.

* * *

Author's Note- Don't hold me accountable for this, but I believe that there is a Dinobot by the name of Paddles. Wikipedia says that he was only ever seen in the comic books though (which I so badly want to read now just to see the water dino!)

Also, Kudos and cookies to who can tell me what Kup's '95% true' line came from. (Me no ownie)


End file.
